


Wind Waves

by Phosphorite



Series: wind, waves & an ocean at our feet [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 123,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorite/pseuds/Phosphorite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In life there are crests and there are troughs; we go under and break the surface, over and over again.</p><p>(In the days that followed a disqualified relay race, in the days that Haruka and Rin spent learning to share their lives with one another, there were often chimes in the air; but it could not have happened any other way, should not have happened any other way, because everything about this disjointed love of theirs was nonetheless real.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. As much as the finale of Free! gave me everything I had dared to hope, there are still so many things I wish had not been left unsaid, still so many ways I wish we would have gotten to see Haruka and Rin's friendship gradually deepen and evolve. This fic is my take on how their relationship might have progressed, from friends to lovers to companions; I have no idea how long this journey is ultimately going to be, but my original purpose was to try and explore all the slow intricacies of the process of falling for another person, based on what the show already gave us. Because I just seem to love these idiots so much.
> 
> I hope you will love them too.

 

_The sound of chimes._

He opened his eyes.

For a moment the world stood still, in that small room on the second floor of his grandmother's house. Haruka held his breath while life slowly continued to return to his drowsy limbs, as though waiting for the echo to return

It didn't. Instead, somewhere in the distance he could hear the hum of Summer, distant chirping and the subtle sounds of this house coming alive with dawn; without turning his head, Haruka knew there were five to ten more minutes left on his digital alarm. Without moving a muscle in his entire body, he knew he had dreamt of something again.

What had he dreamt of?

He couldn't remember.

Those dreams, they... were not exactly the kind you might call a recurring one; they did not haunt Haruka the way continuous nightmares of falling off high buildings or being chased by your 3rd grade homeroom teacher did. Moreover, what they left in their wake was not a sense of unease or discomfort, but instead a strange, faraway anticipation, like a memory of a life he wasn't sure had ever actually taken place.

Ripples.

_The sky, sometimes sunny, sometimes raining. Sometimes the horizon was cloudy and grey._

(If Haruka closed his eyes, he could trace back the sound of his feet hitting the floor board, or the heat of flickering urgency; could remember an effervescent grin, the wind in his hair as he raced down to the landing by the foot of his house, and then––)

Like a distorted feed, his memory always cut off at that moment.

He would wake up. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Collect his books. Step outside, and find Makoto waiting – day in, day out, as the years passed and blurred together in a stream of forgettable days. He would not stop to think about those dreams, because there was nothing to think; the lingering uneasiness always dissolved, eventually, lost in the haze of comforting redundancy.

But there had never been chimes before.

The alarm eventually went off on Haruka's bedside, all the while he stared ahead and tried to pinpoint the reason why today was different from all the other days that had passed, or would come to pass again.

He tried not to think about this, of course.

So he got dressed. Ate breakfast. Collected his books. Stepped outside. And he didn't–– _think_ , not for the five seconds it took for him to cross over to the stairs anticipating Makoto's familiar figure, to the split second of the morning wind lifting his eyes off the ground.

The clouds in the horizon sailed calmly past weak rays of sunlight, leaving behind a trail of misplaced, warm hues; he remembered thinking about this, somehow, the moment Haruka also understood that today was different from all the other mornings because he had never actually stopped dreaming.

"....Mornin', Haru."

A subdued, almost bashful smile, concealed in a wry grin.

A tentative, calm voice, full of unspoken expectation.

(And while the gaze that suddenly held Haruka's own lacked the naked vivaciousness of his memories, those eyes still glowed with crimson expectation; they made him _feel_ again–– the void of whatever emotion he could not consciously recognize, the one that had always seemed as natural as it was also inevitable. It had nestled itself somewhere deep within Haruka, like phantom pain, always waiting for a day that would never come;

waiting for the day he'd walk through that door, and find Rin.)

Yet as the hesitant air that drifted from the landing next to Makoto's house filled Haruka's senses with sudden alertness, it carried a message only he could hear:

_well today your waiting's finally come to an end_.

 

 

 

Haruka spent a few additional heartbeats running that thought over in his head, from where it spread forth into his circuitry like a pleasant afterglow. As Rin lifted his chin and tossed Haruka a tiny, laid-back nod, the sensation was so unusual that it robbed him momentarily of his ability to respond, rendering Haruka silent with wide, intense eyes instead.

In the silence that passed between Rin's greeting and Haruka's stare, a gust of wind sneaked into Rin's hair and brushed it over his eyes; almost instinctively, Haruka realized he was reaching out his hand – for what, exactly, even he wasn't sure, because the gesture came to a halt halfway.

(Perhaps it was on reflex; perhaps it was a muscle spasm. Or perhaps, a part of him wanted to pull back the moment, because it seemed pivotal that the scene not end, not before Haruka had the chance to return the words he had secretly rehearsed for years.)

Yet in a matter of seconds Rin turned his head, concealing his expression in the back of his hand, and it made Haruka feel like being cut off a rope.

"Sorry I'm late, I––"

Makoto's voice reached them long before his footsteps did; as he emerged from his house, hastily dragging a school bag in tow, Haruka could almost hear a rift in the air where the scene cracked and shattered at his feet.

There was an abrupt pause once Makoto noticed him. Although Haruka had not so much as moved an inch, Makoto seemed to pick up on the tension in the atmosphere as his voice instantly filled with every ounce of its usual friendliness.

"Oh, good morning, Haru!"

The second greeting bounced off Haruka as though something instinctively repelled by his skin, though.

He didn't mean for it to; it... wasn't Makoto's fault. But it was also of no use, now; Rin's attention had already diverted, caught onto the traces of Makoto's natural warmth like a magnet. It had only taken seconds, but Haruka was too late.

His eyes had never left Rin, but Haruka knew that his window of opportunity was gone.

The afterglow began to wane as swiftly as it had spread throughout his body. It left Haruka with an overflowing sense of detachment, like someone had hung him on a thread in mid air. Whether he returned Rin's words or not did not make a difference now; the spell had broken, the spirits had turned the page on their script – all the while Haruka couldn't help but feel like he was stuck halfway in dream and reality, unable to properly return to either one.

(...He didn't know how that made him feel.

...Somehow, not knowing only made him feel worse.)

Wordlessly, Haruka began to descend down the stairs; he noted the overtly enthusiastic way Makoto rummaged through his school bag while Rin pushed out his arms in a single, lethargic yawn. Now that Haruka could observe both from afar, he also realized that Rin was wearing his Samezuka uniform; it made him think of a hundred questions, each fixed on the inconsistencies he could suddenly pinpoint in the scene before him.

Such as, _why_ was Rin here?

Samezuka was an entire train journey away; it wasn't as if he could have shown up just to take the same route to school. Sure, it was true they had reconciled during the relay a couple of days back, but there must have been an actual reason he was here, at eight o'clock in the morning, waiting outside Makoto's––

_Oh._

(It wasn't quite a puzzle piece, not quite a complete picture, but Haruka felt his eyes widen again as something heavy and uneasy continued to invade the parts of him now devoid of the former, sanguine glow.)

_...Was Rin waiting for Makoto all along?_

And maybe, there was a sense of solace to how Haruka barely needed to turn his head for a subliminal _ping_ to go off on Makoto's radar, since Makoto quickly sought out his gaze with something akin to sheepishness on his face; Haruka wasn't sure if it made him feel any less uncomfortable, but then, the words tumbled out of Makoto's mouth before Haruka could decide whether hearing the explanation would be an even bigger mistake.

"Rin and I were revising our practice regime charts last night," Makoto offered with an air of forced light-heartedness, as though cautious of the weight of Haruka's stare. Pulling his school bag across the shoulder, Makoto simultaneously gestured at Haruka, as if to subtly remind him that Rin was still present in the conversation. "I mean, the ones Gou-chan dug up were written by him, and it will be Summer break in less than a week, and we figured––"

"Last night?"

There was no discernible tone to Haruka's response, nothing specifically out of the ordinary about its bluntness either, yet he could have sworn Makoto literally flinched.

Ever since Makoto had emerged from his house and diffused the scene with the inevitable burden of reality, Rin had done his best to avoid Haruka's direct stare. However, he seemed to come alive anew at Haruka's sudden interjection, shooting him an almost defensive glare.

"I had a free first period this morning, whatever," Rin muttered, snapping back his head.

Something about the adamancy in his voice ignited a familiar trace of irritation in Haruka, who in turn now kept his gaze firmly fixed on Makoto. Lacking all of Rin's former, hesitant awkwardness, this sudden defiance seemed to Haruka almost nonsensical; once more, something unpleasant twisted away within him, as the tone of Rin's voice drained out the final remnants of whatever moment Haruka had still hoped to treasure.

(It made something in his throat tighten, simultaneously rejected and disappointed for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on; Haruka couldn't tell why he suddenly felt so _annoyed_ with Rin, as though he was _ruining_ something, and _god why does he always have to_ do _this_ ––)

"Rin stayed overnight?"

Half-acknowledging, half-ignoring Rin's words, an invisible barrier arose between the two of them like so many times before. It came to Haruka with almost frightening ease, like something inside him was more than used to trying to prove a point with that gesture alone; from the corner of his eye he could sense Rin's hands balling into fists, but Haruka didn't stop to ask himself why the sight gave him a morbid kind of relief.

But although Haruka had forced his expression to remain almost deadpan to throw Rin off track, the slightest flicker of apology in Makoto's eyes revealed that he finally understood what Haruka was getting at – finally caught onto the tension in Haruka's shoulders and the edge in his voice.

(Looking back, maybe it was wrong of Haruka to hold it against Makoto, to treat this silly moment in time like a grave betrayal. But it was here again, that disconcerting wave of emotion that overwhelmed his naturally logical side; all the pleads of _Makoto is the captain of our team there was no need to invite me over for input I wouldn't have given anyway_ went unheeded, because Haruka couldn't focus on anything besides the strange, lingering frustration that Makoto should have known better, should have _realized_ that––)

"Oi, Haru!" Rin finally threw up his arms, sounding exasperated. "I'm right here you know!!"

There was a brief pause, during which Makoto probably realized that Rin was more likely to start punching things before Haruka got over his indignant stubbornness; and so, with all the effortless grace of a natural peacekeeper, he took a deep breath, tilted his head and put on his most disarming smile.

"...Look, I think I forgot something back at my house. Why don't you walk Rin ahead to the train station, Haru?"

It took Haruka by surprise long enough for his exterior to waver; instinctively, he eyed at Rin, who quickly turned his head away with a distinct _hmph_. Judging by the stifled smile on Makoto's lips, there was probably something fairly hilarious to the moment, but Haruka broke through any needless self-reflection by propelling his feet into motion as he brushed past Rin.

"Fine. Let's go. You'll be late if you don't keep up."

Rin's hasty response sounded a lot like it was accompanied by a grimace, but Haruka allowed the words to hit his back with barely a scratch. "W, wh–– _You're_ the one who's going to be late, idiot!"

 

 

 

The thing about superficial annoyance, though, is that it never holds you in its grip for long; eventually the layers are bound to peel off, transparent as they are futile. And it wasn't that Haruka consciously tried to hold onto his sudden gush of negative emotion, but it felt safer to pave each step down the stairs with mild irritation: it allowed him those moments of serenity, the seconds during which he did not feel like compulsively checking whether Rin still followed.

Everything in life had always been so much easier that way. Never stop, never wonder, never second-guess yourself. If people made him feel bad, he rejected them; if they made him feel at ease, he would allow them to stay. Most of the time he played it by ear, trailing after whichever emotion seemed to pull at him the strongest.

It wasn't so bad, getting through the years like that.

But the problem with Rin had always been that he was capable of making Haruka feel everything all at once; capable of making him want to push and pull simultaneously, like he could never decide whether he was supposed to stay, whether Rin was supposed to leave, and at the end of the day...

(...At the end of the day, what really upset Haruka the most was the fact that he couldn't tell whether he was more frustrated for Rin having ruined the moment, or the fact that Haruka hadn't managed to hold onto it himself.)

But as much as he had already resigned to the inevitable intrusion of reality, stripping away the dreamlike warmth of this morning, Haruka did not anticipate that same reverie to shift in the minutes they spent reaching the roadside. The sun reared its head tentatively in the horizon again, capturing Haruka in its silent cocoon, and just like that he felt as though something transfused in his circuitry.

His footsteps came to a slow halt.

Glancing over his shoulder, he caught a hesitancy on Rin's face that Haruka could trace back to the moment they had last shared alone. It didn't seem out of place, so much as unexpected in the way Rin appeared completely off guard at Haruka's sudden change in mood; whether Haruka was ever meant to witness that look on his face or not, he couldn't say.

The air did not hang heavy between them anymore, but wavered with subdued anticipation.

(It reminded Haruka of the tick of the clock, of drowned screams and a heart elated with resolve.)

_As then, as now_

_as the only way we seem to know how_

"H, Haru?"

This time, Rin's voice definitely divulged his uncertainty. Gone was his former combativeness, dissipated like Haruka's own abrupt frustration; and suddenly Haruka could hear the chimes again, as though someone was still hanging onto the turned page of their script with the tip of a finger, clutching onto his window of opportunity with the last of their strength.

Haruka turned to face Rin head-on. This time, when he held Rin's gaze with steadfast eyes, his voice carried the weight of each and every morning he had woken up to find the place next to Makoto vacant.

(It... didn't matter if Rin was only there for Makoto, now; because whether he had ever actually imagined this day coming to pass, Haruka knew but one thing for certain: there was nothing he would have changed or replaced about this strange, disjointed scene for the world, because it was nonetheless _real_ ;

real like the tentative tone of Rin's voice, the light flush of colour on his cheeks, real like Rin himself, and

_you_

_finally came_ )

"...Good morning, Rin."

Had he meant to smile?

Who knew.

But Haruka could feel the tug of something warm on the side of his mouth either way, and for once it did not feel intrusive; a dash of colour flushed Rin's cheeks in response, but as he yanked his head to the side, Haruka could tell he still held all of Rin's attention anyway.

(It made him feel accomplished, it made him feel relieved, it made him feel... like they had taken the tiniest step towards the finish line together, as if a fragment of something had come full circle in the years that had winded down to nothing but haphazard dreams.)

_...?_

(The sanguine glow began to drift back into his spine, but it left a strange, palpable aftertaste; not unpleasant, but unexpected in the way Haruka could suddenly sense life in each fiber of his being.)

"Stop being so damn weird," Rin muttered, still keeping his eyes on the side of the road; for a second he seemed to hesitate, unsure of how to proceed from there, but as he eventually passed Haruka by, Rin shoved at his right shoulder lightly with the palm of his hand.

The groove of Haruka's shoulder where Rin's fingers had touched still felt warm, moments after they had picked up the pace.

 

 

 

They shared the rest of the journey in relative silence.

Haruka wasn't sure if it was coincidental, but there was a sense of nearly conscious absent-mindedness to how they matched each other's speed; every so often their shoulders would brush with one another, which should not have made Haruka pay as much attention as it did.

From the corner of his eye, Haruka kept stealing glances at Rin. In the minutes that followed their cease-fire, Rin's posture had grown calmer again. His gaze was fixed in the horizon as though lost in thought, hands shoved in the pockets of his school uniform; the sun still made his hair gleam, a splash of live wine amidst the monotone of the roadside.

Haruka wished he could have shared that air of placidity. While the atmosphere had considerably lightened the second Haruka let go of his self-indignant frustration, it had also meant casting off their familiar masks of offense; it meant trying not to slip back into the roles they had so comfortably eased into in the past few months, always disguising that which they had both wanted the most.

_to share the water you would not yield to anyone else;_

_to tread these same, nondescript roads side by side;_

_to feel the spark of that old, azure flame;_

_to watch his smile lighting up with honest pride;_

_that's... all you really wanted, wasn't it?_

Well, that moment was here now, and Haruka didn't know how or why Rin seemingly found it so easy to adapt to it. Just the thought made Haruka sort of... light-headed, if he allowed him to dwell on it for too long; it felt strange and natural all at once to share this space with Rin after all these years, but he couldn't ignore the thousands of unspoken words still hanging in the space between them, now charged with the static of reality.

Or was it just Haruka?

...Maybe Rin hadn't noticed at all?

(Haruka had never cared much about what people were thinking in his presence, but he suddenly found himself wishing he could have known what went on in Rin's head, just to understand what supposedly left him so at ease.)

It wasn't that there was anything criminally fake to Rin's laidback appearance. Yet it also seemed... strange, to contrast this Rin with the person who could become so easily flustered and volatile with the slightest push – the person who, merely days ago, had broken down and displayed more naked vulnerability than anyone Haruka had ever met in his life.

But then, was this discrepancy so strange? ...For all Haruka knew, Rin was merely doing his best to play it all off, embarrassed that such a scene had ever taken place. After all, both the Rin from his memories and the Rin by his side would feel agitated upon the thought of Haruka lording such weakness over him, like some sort of mental trophy that Rin might never be able to surpass.

It wasn't... like that, of course; but the truth of the matter was that they had both spent so many years trying to conceal their vulnerabilities from one another, that the disguises probably came to Rin like a second skin.

_And whose fault is that, really...?_

Haruka glanced away, tightening his hold of the strap of his school bag; the vague unease he suddenly felt was tinged with the guilt of remembering his unwarranted rudeness towards Rin earlier.

It made no sense. Why was it so easy for him to approach Rin with disdain, when in reality all he had wanted since this very morning was to reach out and...

_...And what?_

Briefly, his pace went out of sync; Rin cast him a curious glance, but Haruka avoided his eyes.

It didn't seem... fair, in a way, for Rin to be so calm when Haruka found himself caught in the crossfire of edginess and tranquility again. It seemed to go in waves, like an endless undulation he could not control around Rin.

Haruka had yet to decide whether this was a good or a bad thing; he hated the troughs, of course, for rendering him speechless and paralyzed with an unnamed fear; but with each low point there were also the crests, and those, oh...

(...If he concentrated, Haruka could still feel the weight of Rin's head on his shoulder in the aftermath of their race, the warmth of his body and the all-encompassing _peace_ it had enveloped him with; could feel the softness of relief, the warmth of absolution, and a tinge of the future, like a promise that he could not quite manifest into words.

All of it had meant more to Haruka than he could quite explain yet.

Somehow, Haruka wished Rin would know this.

Somehow, Haruka also knew these words would probably be some of the hardest to ever admit aloud.)

The silhouette of the train station was already in clear view ahead. The closer they drew to it, the more there was a strange restlessness growing inside of Haruka, as if there was something he still wanted to say to Rin before they parted ways. He wasn't sure exactly what, though; wasn't sure if there was anything at all he _could_ say, to dispel this unexpected uneasiness in the wake of their make-shift truce.

_something you want to tell him, or_

_something you wish he told you,_

_before the two of you resume fighting and you're left wondering which excuse you can use to see him again?_

Twice in his life he had watched Rin screaming in his face, convinced that Haruka didn't care. Twice in his life he had held on with everything he had, but only once he had succeeded.

(...He never wanted there to be a third time, not only because the odds were not necessarily in his favour, but also because the mere memory of Rin's face contorted into genuine despair made Haruka's insides twist into knots.)

There might not come another chance like this anytime soon, a moment cut out of time with just the two of them alone; and while it was so easy to revert into the same patterns, the self-feeding pride and pointless arguments borne out of insecurity, none of that was worth knowing Rin might misunderstand how much Haruka nonetheless wanted him in his life.

_You're still my...._

Haruka opened his mouth, but found himself at lack of words just as quickly. Why was it so hard to conjure up the unwavering determination, the one that had sent him chasing after Rin in the past? He had broken through the closing window of opportunity before and he could do it again, if he just didn't falter, if he simply believed, if he––

"Hey, you think Makoto's gonna catch up with us any time soon?"

And just like that, there was a lead weight in Haruka's chest; just like that the delicate, glass frames of the moment he had tried to construct splintered in his hands.

By his side, Rin shifted as he scratched the back of his head. The tone of his voice was aloof; if Rin ever noticed the not-so-subtle way that Haruka's entire body tensed up, he sure never remarked on it.

The small smile that sneaked upon Haruka's lips in response was as mirthless as it was unintentional.

_Ah, but I_

_almost.... forgot, didn't I_

He forced life into his voice as he turned to Rin.

"You can wait for him if you'd like. I'll go on ahead."

Always a crest, always a trough. How did he not understand this, yet?

(...Because he hadn't forgotten, the swift disillusion that had grasped him the second he realized Rin had not showed up to meet him this morning at all; the disappointment of understanding that the dream he had harbored for all these years was not actually shared by the one person it invariably revolved around; and while Haruka could have sworn he had already come to terms with this in the moments where Rin's steadfast attention had left him feeling sanguine and content, he also couldn't say why it made him feel so... purposeless, now, like a disconnected wire.)

_It's alright it's alright it's alright it's alright the water will keep me afloat_

Haruka was almost certain his tone had not cracked – no, he was _completely_ certain his voice had held, yet something flickered in Rin's expression, like a sudden alertness that Haruka tried to drown in the hastened pace of his footsteps.

But although Rin had called after him twice this morning alone, no sound accompanied the gentle yet firm tug of Haruka's wrist once Rin grabbed his hand, halting Haruka in his tracks.

"H, hey," came the words, confused and startled; as Haruka glanced up at Rin he realized the expression on Rin's face was oddly alarmed. "That's–– that's not what I meant––"

It took around three seconds of silence for Rin to register what he had done. With a sudden start, he let go of Haruka's wrist, recoiling his fingers as though burnt by Haruka's skin. As he hastily averted his eyes anew, Haruka could but stare back at him.

"––I mean, that's––" Rin stammered, lifting a hand to his mouth as if he could have stopped the words from tumbling out in a convoluted mess, "Makoto didn't–– he didn't agree to a time yet, so I––"

"...Time?"

Haruka's voice came out gentler this time; it both did and did not sound like he had intended, which left his chest feeling curiously clouded.

Because something in Rin's sudden, artless flailing was draining Haruka's own anxiety in a matter of heartbeats; it felt familiar, it felt like _Rin_ , and it tugged on the side of Haruka's mouth with a sudden, inexplicable warmth – he could tell the undulations were pulling him under again, but they were pushing him on towards the surface, and the lightness in his fingertips made it difficult to care about anything else.

"For practice, later today," Rin replied with a tilt of his head, like this particular piece of information was the most obvious thing in the world; he still hazarded a suspicious look at Haruka, but it soon softened when no rebuttal came.

"We were planning our joint schedules last night," he went on before hesitating, but the grimace he shot at Haruka likewise dissolved into a wry grin. "...Today's day one of practice, so you better not be late, Haru."

(The final line seemed like a hasty afterthought; yet at the sound of his name on Rin's tongue, a tiny kindling within Haruka ignited anyway.)

"I won't be," Haruka heard himself respond, and as he glanced back at Rin, there was no hesitation in his expression and absolutely no doubt in his heart.

Rin cocked his head with what was probably meant to be an impartial nod, but his stifled grin gave him away. "Alright."

Haruka returned the nod. "Alright."

"...Alright."

"...Alright?"

"Tch–– stop saying alright, idiot!"

"But you––"

"Shut up," Rin snapped, and Haruka realized he didn't even flinch when Rin's hand stretched out to push at his forehead; it did not occur to Haruka until later that it was the third time that morning Rin had used the pretext of exasperation to physically touch him.

Had he stopped to consider this sooner, well, Haruka may have felt more self-aware about the moment he intuitively closed his fingers around Rin's wrist and pulled his hand down; Haruka's thumb lingered on Rin's pulse, and he remarked with honest curiosity how it accelerated once he gave Rin an unintentional, unimpressed smile.

(Because something at the back of his mind was whispering _here_ – locked in the brightness of Rin's eyes, the memory of that effervescent grin, and he couldn't not reach out for it––)

"Rin."

(And maybe Haruka wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say in the first place, maybe it would be a long while yet before he understood why that wish existed at all; maybe it had to do with the way his heart skipped a beat the moment Rin's sped up like an engine, or maybe it did not, at all; but he wanted to say _something_ , and so what came out was a hybrid of everything he had tried to put into words all morning.)

"Thank you for being my friend."

Rin's face flushed positively _scarlet_ , to the point where Haruka duly wondered if there were satellites in space that suddenly crashed for the sudden disparity on their radar. In a way, it was probably a shame he couldn't speak on behalf of Rin's heart rate, because the hand yanked out of Haruka's grasp the second Rin staggered backwards.

"D, dammit, I told you to stop saying weird things," Rin choked out, eyes aflame with something akin to furious embarrassment. The harshness of his tone didn't intimidate Haruka, though – there was nothing about this scene that made him self-conscious or regretful, because he had meant every word.

Whether Rin had a problem with that or not, well, that was hardly Haruka's issue, was it?

(Alright, so that thought might have been laced with the tiniest inkling of mischievousness, but Rin... could live without that knowledge for a little while longer.)

With a funny, bubbly feeling working its way up his spine, Haruka fought back the urge to divulge this amusement and simply averted his gaze from the still-fuming Rin in a lazy swoop. He nodded towards the station.

"Is that your train?" he calmly stated; in response, Rin's head wrenched in the direction of his gaze with enough vigor to look like it hurt, still caught in the adrenaline of his embarrassment.

"Shit shit shit shit shit," was the only answer Rin rewarded him with; turning on his heels, Rin wasted no second thought in sprinting off with unceremonious grace, sending tiny pebbles flying in the air like something out of a cartoon.

In any other situation Haruka might have felt dejected that Rin did not so much as bid him goodbye, but watching him break every speed record in his attempt to close the two hundred yards to the station was also comical enough for Haruka to not really care.

He stood there waiting for nothing in particular, for a good while after.

It wasn't until Makoto eventually caught up with him that Haruka remembered their former exchange, bringing back another wave of guilty conscience for the way he had treated his best friend before.

"...Sorry," he breathed out, but Makoto only let out a light chuckle; he waved his hand in the air as though trying to dispel Haruka's concern as inconsequential. (To be fair, it probably was; it was only lately that Haruka had begun to understand that Makoto probably cared less about what he was apologizing for, and more for the fact that he bothered to apologize at all.)

"Got everything out of your system?" Makoto simply remarked with a smile; there was a glimpse of something Haruka couldn't quite place in his voice, but before he could comment on it, Makoto pressed the palms of his hands against Haruka's shoulders, propelling him back into motion towards the direction of their school.

Once they resumed a steady pace, Makoto opened his mouth again as though to say something; he paused, though, holding his tongue, then gave Haruka a quizzical smile.

"I bet Rin didn't tell you it was his idea."

As much as Haruka tried to keep his tone neutral, he couldn't help the sidelong glance at Makoto. "What?"

"Joint practice. Staying over. All of it." Makoto paused again, and when he spoke, his voice was warmer than Haruka remembered having heard in years. "...I think he wanted to be there at daybreak. To see you."

For what felt like the hundredth time today, Haruka's footsteps came to a halt.

(And that's... all it took, really;

to lift his heart afloat, to set his spirit engulfed by the familiar, old azure flame;

and as Haruka stared at the horizon before him, he could still hear the chimes;

_well_

_your dream has finally turned to reality_

_and now what do you do?)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who read and left me such amazing comments on the first chapter – thank you so much! I actually got this chapter done far sooner than I envisioned because I wanted to leave you with something before I'm out of the country for a couple of weeks; the first two serve as a kind of prologue for the rest of the story, so I guess it was easier to couple them together anyway. As you may have guessed, I am writing this by switching POVs between Haruka and Rin every other chapter. This time it's Rin's turn.
> 
> Again, I hope you enjoy.

 

"Sorry, is this seat––"

Whatever the small kid had meant to finish that sentence with (not that there were a whole lot of things that followed a cold start like that, admittedly), the words died on his lips the second his hopeful eyes came in contact with Rin's glare. Letting out a small yelp, the kid spun around and backed towards the other end of the train car, leaving Rin to direct his intense smolder at the worn out strip of advertisement on a side panel instead.

A drawing of a wide-eyed retro princess stared back at him amidst a cloud of curled hair, her expression nothing short of melodramatically radiant as she gazed into nothing with long lashes and glittering, tearful eyes. _The make-up of heroines!_ the ad screamed.

Rin yanked his head away. As he raised his gaze, another banner caught his attention near the top of the car: in a triptych of photographs, a man was brought to the verge of tears upon biting down on a leg of chicken and washing it down with beer.

Whatever the universe was trying to tell him, he was _not_ amused.

The railway tracks clattered and sent his body swaying with each tiny shift of the road. It wasn't even nine a.m., yet the morning sun seemed to blast down on his neck with unrelenting heat. He closed his eyes briefly, but the bizarre restlessness inside of him refused to die down; all at once Rin secretly hoped the journey back to Samezuka would be over within minutes, yet also never came to an end.

_You better not be late, Haru._

_Stop saying alright, Haru._

_Stop... stop being so weird, Haru._

Rin leaned against the window with his elbow, the lower half of his face concealed in the palm of his hand. The vibrant scarlet had yet to completely dilute from his cheeks, and each reminder of his flushed reaction only roused it anew.

_Was that really the best you could do? ...God damn._

The longer he was trapped in transit, the longer Rin would had nothing else to do with his time than to run the events of the morning over and over in his head, down to the last excruciating detail; there was literally nothing worse than replaying a scene of your own idiocy, reveling in the should haves and the could haves which, in retrospect, seemed as self-evident as the light of day.

No, he couldn't wait to get back to school and distract his thoughts with the rowdiness of final classes before Summer break; he could skip one or two, go do some extra practice, hell, Rin would even take the sound of Nitori prying into his sudden nightly excursion over infuriating flashbacks of the way his voice hitched in panic the second Haruka had brushed past him with indifference.

Why had he ever thought staying over at Makoto's was a good idea?

Okay, so. The actual staying-over part? That one had been... more fun than Rin had anticipated: they'd talked regimes, watched TV, had dinner. They'd played videogames with Makoto's younger siblings, who may have been too young to properly remember him but old enough to kick his ass in beat 'em ups anyway. Everything about last night had been almost excruciatingly _domestic_ somehow; how Mr and Mrs Tachibana still recalled a random classmate of Makoto's from years ago, Rin might never know, but his heart had a done a funny little leap at the sound of their delighted "Ah, Matsuoka-kun!" nonetheless.

(Naturally, that leap was nothing compared to the complete derailment Rin had struggled through later that evening, when Makoto's mother had tilted her head and smiled that same, languid smile as her son, and breathed the words _Haru-chan must be so happy to have you back_ aloud.)

But all of that had been... fine. All of that had been _manageable_ – especially once Makoto had simply laughed and directed Rin out of the line of fire, allowing him to avoid having to respond to Mrs Tachibana's comment. There may have been a tiny god of subtle favours punching more holes into Rin's timecard with every second he spent in Makoto's company, but for all it was worth, Rin couldn't resent him for it in the slightest; Makoto had saved him again, after all, the following morning when Rin's ambiguous plan to catch up with Haruka had spiraled to hell.

What had he been hoping to accomplish, anyway? 

God, Rin was such an _idiot_ sometimes –or a lot of the time– for thinking anything was _ever_ as simple with Haruka as pure logic should have dictated. For someone so straightforward, Haruka could be completely nonsensical in the most frustrating of ways; who else was Rin going to ever have the displeasure of knowing, who could go from indifferent to vindictive to affectionate in a matter of minutes, as though Haruka's entire mental programming was stuck on a continuous loop of rinse, lather, repeat?

_And whose fault is that, really...?_

To be honest, Rin wasn't sure if the subsequent memory of these past months was laced with more shame or sadness, since the two seemed intrinsically intertwined these days.

It wasn't as if Haruka was the only one swaying back and forth between extremes, forced to cope with someone's fluctuating moods on the go; to think back at the boy Rin had known in his final year of middle school, it was a pure miracle Haruka was swaying back and forth between anything at all. That, in and of itself, probably should have been Rin's cue a long time ago; but it had taken him this long to even begin to piece the puzzle together, now that every waking moment of his life was not occupied by a suffocating, tightening knot around his chest.

Since the relay a couple of days ago, that knot had slowly begun to unravel with each morning that passed by. Yet at the back of his mind Rin knew none of this had completely absolved him of his failures, whether or not those failures truly concerned anyone but himself at all.

(Still, Haruka had... been there, then, steadfast and unyielding in the moment of Rin's colossal meltdown; but what had surprised Rin was not ultimately the words Haruka had spoken, not even the relentlessness in his eyes, but how badly Rin had wanted to _believe_ him – wanted believe each word, until nothing remained but a confrontation with that one part of himself that still refused to give in and give up.)

He'd felt embarrassed, of course, afterwards. But there was also a lightness to his breath and spirit to each step that trailed Rin in the days that followed; and when he thought back at the hours that had thrust his future off course, what he recalled first and foremost were not the waves of despair, the way his voice had broken with each scream, or the helplessness he had felt upon crying in front of Haruka.

(...No, what he remembered was the soaring of his heart upon the sound of Haruka's voice; the life in each muscle of his body once Makoto's fingers touched the edge of the pool; and, oh, the peculiarity of how natural it had felt for him to pull Haruka in his arms afterwards, only to sense that feeling morphing into something far more perplexing afterwards, once Rin's chest continued to tingle with the warmth of Haruka's skin.)

_...Yeah, you don't regret that time,_

_like you don't regret today, either_

Rin took a deep breath. The glass under his fingertips felt cool to the touch, but it wasn't enough to temper the strange spark coursing within.

Because he also knew that there was a part of him, silently dreading the second when the woman living inside the speakers was to announce their arrival to Samezuka; as much as each awkward memory had left his chest pounding with the adrenaline of frustration, there was a lingering trace of happiness swirling among that whirlpool of remorse – and that trace, well, it was more than enough to make him hesitate.

Should he exit through those sliding doors, this same morning would officially be over for good; time would turn it into nothing more than an image of the past, leaving Rin unable to say whether anything like that bizarre, overwhelming moment he had shared with Haruka would ever come to pass again.

(The way the side of Haruka's mouth had curved into a delicate, almost private smile; how the sun had illuminated his blue eyes with the weightlessness of the sea; how his slender fingers had pressed into the skin of Rin's wrist, gentle but firm;

...had Rin imagined all of that, or had there been something to Haruka's behaviour that did, nonetheless, come off as almost...)

 _And what's it to_ you _anyway?_

Rin flinched.

Ah... now there it was again, right on cue – the familiar, snide part of Rin, the one that always yanked him back like a constant reminder that he couldn't afford thoughts like that. Didn't _want_ thoughts like that. Shouldn't–– shouldn't tread too far into that particular direction, or he would only have himself to blame.

(Of course he recognized it; it was the same part of Rin that still kept the more cumbersome memories of his past at bay, like a gatekeeper to all the poignant and unwanted emotions that circulated behind a well-sealed door. He couldn't fault it for existing; its persistence to protect Rin had gotten him through the years in Australia, just as it had gotten him through most of the months back in Japan; and as much as Rin sometimes wondered what might come to pass, should he take a look beneath that door in the recesses of his heart, it... was probably better not to tempt his luck, now that he had already gained back more of his former life than he had ever even dared to hope.)

Rin took a deep breath, willing the defensive part of him down. It was alright; surely he had been mistaken, anyway. The idea that Haruka laced any of his actions with the same implications as other humans did was ludicrous to begin with, because Haruka didn't operate emotions the way normal people did. It was pointless trying to read anything into his gestures, because nine times out of ten Haruka probably didn't even realize how he came across – had no clue what a... _weirdo_ he was, saying such embarrassing things with a straight face.

_Thank you for being my friend... huh._

Almost without realizing it, Rin found himself biting down on his lower lip.

He could almost hear Makoto's voice in his head, reassuring and full of silent smiles; were he here, Makoto would undoubtedly say something like _You know he means it, else he wouldn't have said it_ , to try and relieve some of Rin's oh-so-instinctive suspicion; but the problem was that that _wasn't_ the problem, not by a long shot, not... at all.

As the speakers began to crackle with the impending announcement, Rin sighed anew. No, the worst part wasn't Rin not knowing if Haruka meant it.

_The worst part is that he probably does._

 

 

 

"Senpai, practice is starting, we––"

Rin couldn't help a sudden bout of dé já vu, the way Nitori's eyes widened for a split second before his jaw clenched shut mid-sentence. Rin hadn't _meant_ to glare, but his brows seemed to knit themselves together as though possessing sentience of their own. It wasn't that he was particularly annoyed with Nitori's sudden interjection, just that he had been concentrating hard prior to it – processing the afternoon's possible outcomes in his head with more fervor than he had ever invested into actual statistics class.

"You go on ahead," is what Rin breathed out in a softer tone, pushing himself upright on his bed, "Tell Captain I'll be right up."

Nitori shot him a brief look of hesitation, then nodded; as Nitori turned on his heels and jogged out of the room, Rin felt an inexplicable urge to just plop back down on his bunk, close his eyes and pretend he had a fever. But he couldn't ignore the sudden rush of vivaciousness that Nitori's words had also left in their wake – an alertness that overtook Rin's body, after nine hours of wading through classes and conversations like he wasn't really even here.

It was a... bizarre feeling, all in all; ever since he had returned to Samezuka, Rin had felt like something was amiss, like a limb he had misplaced without even realizing it. The sensation came with a trace of restlessness, as though a third of his nervous system was on constant standby to pounce on the slightest stimulus.

(Like when his phone vibrated at 1023 hours and it took Rin every ounce of self-control to refrain from slamming it on his table in the middle of English class, frenzied and highly-strung for reasons he couldn't even explain; and how the sight of Makoto's name on the display filled him with a curious, hopeful expectation later, even when Rin knew exactly what he had to say:

_Is 15:15 okay for practice at Samezuka?_

_Haru says hi._

And Rin knew, he just fucking knew Makoto was doing it on purpose and he probably briefly hated Makoto for it too – but the side of his mouth pulled into a grin anyway, until one of his classmates asked Rin what he was smiling at, at which point Rin nearly dropped his phone.)

Still, people would start getting weird ideas if he didn't show up as promised; normally he was the first one in the pool, which meant that even Rin couldn't properly explain why he suddenly felt so hesitant to leave the safe confines of his dorm room. When the universe did not appear to give him any more indication as to how it felt about his unease, he eventually sighed and grabbed onto his practice gear; it wasn't as though his restlessness and their joint practice could be related by any stretch of the imagination, so there was no point in prolonging the inevitable.

He emerged from the shower rooms just in time to hear Nagisa's voice bouncing off the tiles of the hall like a Christmas carol in July.

"Ai-chaaaann, come on! It won't work if we don't do this as a team!"

The sight that greeted Rin as he entered was far different to the one he had anticipated: instead of a rowdy group of swimmers, the only people present appeared to be the Iwatobi team, plus Nitori – the person Nagisa was currently holding by the hands, while trying to peer into Nitori's face with his most persuasive leer.

(Rin couldn't suppress his surprise upon witnessing the clouded look of disapproval in Nitori's expression; out of all the people in the world, Nagisa seemed to be struggling to win Nitori over to his side. How about that, then.)

"Nagisa-kun," Nitori was in the middle of protesting, arms folded across his chest, "I don't think it's something we should be doing. Also, it's not safe. Also, please don't call me Ai-chan."

"I have to agree with Nitori-kun – it doesn't sound like double cannonball will land us anywhere other than hospital," Rei added by his side; at the sound of his discouragement, Nagisa let out a loud wail.

"Not you too, Rei-chan! I'm telling you, it's perfectly safe! Mako-chan and me–– we've done it a thousand times in the past!"

"We tried it twice," Makoto corrected courteously, a mildly sheepish smile on his face as he tried his best to contain Nagisa's enthusiasm, "...Only one of which actually succeeded. The second time you ended up kneeing me in the chest, remember? It knocked the wind out of me underwater, which wasn't an experience I'd wish on anyone."

"Mako-chan, you're so hung up on the past," Nagisa positively _harrumph_ ed, yet chose that exact moment to glance sideways and notice Rin. "And speaking of people hung up on––mphmphpmh!"

"Ah, hey, Rin-san," Rei was the first to speak, his hand still firmly clamped over Nagisa's mouth, "In case nobody told you yet, general practice was cancelled. It seems Mikoshiba-san came down with fever."

(It would have been too difficult to explain to Rei why that exact piece of information made Rin narrow his eyes, so he simply nodded in response.)

"Since we came all the way here, we figured we might as well do casual practice," Makoto added, gesturing at the pool, then tilted his head at Nagisa, "Which, for the record, does not stand for double cannonball."

A brief silence fell upon them, as though everyone was waiting for Rin to react; sure enough, there were a lot of questions Rin could have chosen to ask at that exact moment –such as, _Are we still following the regime we made last night? Should we time each other? Do you want me to coach Rei this time around?_ – but as he took a second to scan his eyes across the hall, deep down he only really wanted to ask one.

Of course he had noticed, as soon as he had walked in – that the Iwatobi team was missing one member, one that was the least likely to be absent as far as empty lanes and water of near-perfect temperature were concerned; the words _Where the hell is Haru_ danced on his lips, but something caught Rin's tongue with sudden timidity before he ever got as far.

After all, was he supposed to comment on something like that? And if he did, could he make it sound casual and aloof, instead of weirdly stalker-ish? Would the others read too much into it? Why, was there anything to be read into it? Why was he thinking about that in the first place? It was a goddamn question, not a political statement, not a––

"What the hell is a double cannonball?" he heard himself ask instead.

As irrelevant as his response ultimately was, Rin felt oddly relieved that he had managed to keep the hesitancy out of his voice. There was another brief silence after his question, yet Rin was pretty sure he'd still come across as though he had never even registered Haruka's absence, let alone thought to comment on it; somehow, it was important that the others not get the opposite impression, mistaken as it would obviously be.

He didn't stop to think about the blatant paradox in that sentence, any more than he stopped to think about why Rei and Nagisa exchanged looks with one another before Nagisa completely sidestepped Rin's question, hiding his arms behind his back.

"By the way, Gou-chan and Haru-chan should be here soon. They went to talk to the headmaster first. He needs to give his approval for the Iwatobi swimming club to be permitted to practice here over the Summer break."

...Oh, yeah. Gou. Not that Rin had forgotten about her (no sir, how could he forget about his sweet little sister?), but now that Nagisa mentioned it, Rin realized she wasn't present either. But while Nagisa's explanation made sense given her role as the team's manager, it had only made sense up until the point when Nagisa also mentioned Haruka's name.

Rin's voice came out bewildered before he could stop himself, baited by the answer to the question he hadn't dared to ask. "Why the hell would _that_ idiot go along with Gou?"

This time he didn't miss the look Nagisa and Rei shot one another, giving away exactly how far into their trap he had fallen.

"Weeeell," Nagisa replied after a moment, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, which only made him more suspicious if possible, "....Who knows?"

It was as much as Rin could squeeze out of him without asking outright, and he knew; there was something altogether too mischievous in Nagisa's expression, which triggered each and every remaining alarm in Rin's head. For all it was worth at this point, he knew better than to pursue the issue further; to save whatever remained of his face, he opted to turn back to Makoto with feigned aloofness, as if the discussion did not actually interest him on any level besides vague curiosity.

"Want to race me? I'll give you a head-start."

Makoto laughed and rolled his eyes, but Rin chose to dive right into the water before any unsuspecting sides of him would even dream of dwelling on what that eye-roll was actually directed at.

 

 

 

While it would have been a far stretch of the imagination to call their ensuing swimming cacophony anything resembling a race, there was enough adrenaline involved within the next ten to fifteen minutes that passed to leave Rin not only breathless but also feeling more like himself again. Perhaps, that was the beauty of water; when he wasn't weighed down by needless distractions, when he could immerse his senses in the the combination of chlorine, zeal, and the sound of his friends, it was easier to remember why he had always felt like part of him _needed_ this as much as it had always _wanted_ it as well.

Maybe, thinking about it like that should have hurt. Maybe it should have been painful, all in all, realizing how much time Rin had _wasted_ in the past months, no, _years_ that he had spent willfully keeping himself away from all these people – even the people he hadn't known back then, the people he had only recently begun to allow into his life with all the caution of someone who was used to giving up his friends to the inevitability of time and distance.

Yet somehow... it didn't hurt, not as much as it probably ought to have; the enthusiasm that fell upon the lanes on that particular afternoon did not leave Rin feeling detached like so many times before; whether he watched Rei proudly sharing his knowledge with the wide-eyed Nitori, or Nagisa trying (and failing) to startle Makoto three times in a row by grabbing at him from behind, it was a scene Rin felt _part_ of, instead of merely observing it from afar.

Perhaps this was the reason he grew so confident shortly afterwards, caught up in this tiny little cocoon of exuberance, that he forgot all about second-guessing; once he sensed ripples in the water behind him, Rin's thoughts shot straight to Nagisa, who must have grown bored with trying to one-up Makoto by now. Well, he couldn't have chosen a worse second victim – hell would freeze over before Nagisa ever caught Rin off guard at such a laughably easy game, especially when disarming him would be just as effortless.

So effortless, in fact, that Rin wasted no more thought before diving underwater; a quick somersault later he broke the surface anew, arms outstretched and pinning Nagisa down by the sides – except, of course, it wasn't Nagisa, because the sheer logic of narration dictates that it can never be the person introduced in the previous paragraph, should there be even the slightest chance of gauging a more ironic reaction by substituting them with someone else.

Too bad Rin was never big enough on books to have figured this out before he was staring Haruka's puzzled expression right in the face.

Rin's first, primal instinct was to call out to Makoto for help; his second, more conscious instinct was to breathe out Haruka's name, as though to confirm that he wasn't caught in the middle of some absurd dream (or alternatively, a nightmare). He couldn't help it; something about the abrupt lack of proximity between the two of them, head nearly bumping against Haruka's forehead and his hands frozen on Haruka's hips, was enough to render him mortified with paralysis.

"Ma-haru," was the high pitched sound that came out of Rin's mouth, which only made Haruka frown in confusion; a tiny voice at the back of Rin's mind started screaming with hysterical laughter, for all the ways it had taken him less than three seconds to make an already embarrassing situation even worse.

Clearly, that was a personal record he felt the need to beat in the next two.

"Ma... _Mahalo_ is Hawaiian and means 'thank you'," Rin spoke in rapid succession, contrary to his former lack of syntax; once he had gotten his mouth open, it felt like he couldn't stop talking, because Haruka was looking at him and Haruka was listening to him and _what the fuck was that why did you say that and why did he still have his hands on Haruka's waist god damn come on let go this is getting weird he'll think you're weird he––_

"Oh," Haruka replied, after a brief pause, then nodded. "...Well, you're welcome."

Rin blinked, once, twice; not once had Haruka's expression changed during the entire exchange, and he still regarded Rin with a look of calm curiosity. Strangely, this... kind of begun to drain most of Rin's panic, because there was not a trace of judgment in Haruka's blue stare, not an ounce of disapproval or even a hint of sneer; most of all, there was no... indifference in those eyes, something that caught a tiny part within Rin unguarded, in all the ways that he _didn't_ know how to defend himself from it.

"No, I mean," Rin breathed out anew, finally letting his hands drift off Haruka's hips; it felt safer, in a way, to draw Haruka's attention to his words to make the gesture seem nothing short of coincidental. "It was, you know, from before? What you said. When you thanked me this morning. I just, uh. I returned the favour."

Now, Haruka did lift a single, light brow at this. "...You wanted to thank me in Hawaiian?"

"Yeah, totally, I mean–– well, you wouldn't know, that's what they do in Australia all the time." Rin wasn't sure if the hysterically laughing part inside of him was crying out of embarrassment by now, but it couldn't be helped.

"Do what in Australia?" Nagisa's voice cut in, then, because _of course Nagisa would have to fucking hear that, why couldn't Nagisa be around when he had_ supposed _to be, why was everyone but Rin such an insufferable idiot_ ; Rin almost bit his lip raw, trying not to curse aloud.

"Kill baby penguins," he replied, not missing a beat – it was sheer magic, truly, that Rin could re-compose himself within seconds when it came to hurling death threats at his other friends, but trying to carry a halfway legible conversation with Haruka seemed like the biggest feat in the universe.

"Liar," Nagisa quipped, but sounded morose enough to leave them alone. The sound of something splashing further off in the distance soon confirmed Rin's guess.

"Nagisa's right," came Haruka's ever-calm tone, then, reminding Rin that the two of them were still treading water side by side, "That's not what you said."

"I say a lot of things, okay?!" Rin snapped, with more aggression than he probably had intended; he mentally swore again, trying to draw in a deep, calm breath. Haruka seemed unfazed, though; he simply tilted his head, then held his breath and dove underwater.

For who knows how many heartbeats, Rin continued to tread water in that exact place, following the line of Haruka's glide with his gaze. A familiar restlessness had wound its grip around his chest, and he needed those seconds to will the undulations down before he could even dream of feigning an aloof front; needed that momentary solitude to convince himself that it wasn't a fabrication in the first place.

He had... no idea how he was supposed to feel in the aftermath of that ridiculous scene.

Moreover, Rin had no idea how he felt now that it was already over.

_As then, as now_

_as the only way you seem to know how_

He held his breath, and dove after his friends.

 

 

 

Two hours later, the worst of his unease had transformed into a numb alertness instead. As much as Rin hated to admit it, something in the atmosphere had changed the second Haruka had walked through those doors and transformed the entire practice into the Nanase Haruka show.

Or was it just Rin?

Had Haruka noticed at all?

It was... almost impressive, to be perfectly honest, how serene Haruka appeared as he spent those hours haphazardly swimming in nondescript patterns. Sometimes he stopped by to chat with his friends, yet he mostly kept to himself; there was nothing outright dismissive to his demeanor, but the manner in which he still seemed to own the entire pool with his presence was enough to commandeer Rin's full attention.

Perhaps it was a good thing their standard practice was cancelled, because it seemed impossible for Rin to concentrate at all – much to his personal dismay, sure, but mostly just to his immense confusion. He was lucky there was nobody checking his times or criticizing his form, because Rin might have given even his abysmal 100m race a run for its money, for the sheer inability to remember which direction he was supposed to swim in the first place.

(But every time he felt a familiar ripple in the water, he couldn't help but turn his head toward Haruka; he tried to do this as discreetly as he possibly could, but sometimes Rin could tell Haruka had noticed anyway, and during those moments he would quickly pretend like the spot above Haruka's shoulder was awfully fascinating instead. It was ridiculous and stupid and he _knew it_ , but Rin also couldn't help it, because for the life of him he couldn't understand what had set Haruka so at peace, and he just...)

Towards the end of those two hours Rin found himself climbing onto the edge of the pool, leaning against one knee while the other still dangled in the water; Nitori had excused himself halfway through practice, and Nagisa and Makoto had disappeared into the changing rooms a while ago. Rin had been lazily giving Rei pointers on his butterfly for the past fifteen minutes, but it was obvious his mind wasn't in it; when Rei pulled himself out of the water and bid farewell, he clearly wanted to comment on that very fact, but decided to keep his thoughts to himself at the last minute.

Somewhere at the far end of the pool, Haruka was still doing laps on his own. Whether there was any pattern or logic to his swimming, Rin doubted it. He wasn't sure why he didn't just take his leave like all the others had; the longer he sat here, waiting for something to magically dispel his growing uneasiness, the harder it would be to diffuse the sinking disappointment when nothing ever did.

_So what exactly are you waiting for?_

It had been a completely nonsensical day so far; but while he might have embarrassed himself a hundred times over in the span of less than twenty-four hours, Rin also felt no inexplicable urge to loathe himself over it yet – in his book, that counted as a moderate success, and he should have known better than to push his luck any further.

So why couldn't he just get up and go?

 _Because there's still_ _something you want to tell him, or_

_something you wish he told you,_

_before the two of you resume fighting and you're left wondering which excuse you can use to see him again?_

...God, how pathetic could Rin get? As if there was _any_ chance that Haruka would ever think of something similar, which was what made Rin's purposeless waiting all the more ridiculous. It wasn't like a single relay race was enough to shift Haruka's inner world off its hinges the way it had done for Rin; and while Haruka _had_ thanked him for being his friend earlier this morning, the rest of Haruka's friends were probably in the locker room by now, whereas Haruka was more than content with staying behind.

_Why would you expect it to be different? You're no special than the rest of them. This is... already far more than you deserve._

The point where his inner gatekeeper started kicking in with calming, reassuring tones was possibly the moment when Rin ought to have listened. And maybe, in another life he might have done, closing the window of opportunity for good. Maybe in another life he would have walked out and lived his life, none the wiser of the chances he may or may not have missed; maybe he would have been just as happy, or maybe he would have not. 

But this wasn't one of those countless other lives – this was here, and now, in the split second he nearly pulled his leg out of the water to stand up, when he _heard_ it––

( _a splash of water, almost like a chime_ )

––and as Rin lifted his gaze anew, he was staring directly at Haruka, whose eyes never once wavered or left his own.

Haruka was neither close nor far; soundlessly, he had made his way back towards Rin, halting a few feet away in the water. This time, no uncontrollable tidal wave of words took over Rin; instead, the only thing he could think of in that moment was to stretch out his hand. Haruka grasped it, of course; Rin pulled him out of the pool with little effort, a shower of droplets raining over Rin's thigh as Haruka stumbled forward a little before eventually taking a seat next to him.

For a while, neither one of them spoke. From the corner of his eye, Rin tried to gauge Haruka's mood from the subtle expression on his face, but could not decisively figure it out. It was similarly impossible to tell whether there was a tension in the silence between them, or if it simply hung with the ease of tranquility instead; with Haruka, this could always change in a matter of seconds.

For the first time today, Rin's mind was completely blank.

And perhaps, it was for that very reason that his self-conscious side did not blast into overdrive once Haruka turned his head, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke out:

"...Do you think we could be a team again? ...You, and I."

Every so often, Rin would come to realize, it wasn't just Haruka who could utter completely embarrassing things with a straight face; every so often, when the stars were correctly aligned, it wasn't just daunting insecurity that wrapped Rin in its hold upon the slightest display of genuine affection; and every so often, when all of these constellations clicked together, Rin would find his true voice, and the words would come to him like breathing:

"Yeah," he said, and he didn't remember the last time he had meant anything as much in his life, "I'd like that very much."

(That didn't mean, of course, that there wasn't a lunge of weightlessness in Rin's stomach the second his voice triggered a tiny, almost relieved smile on Haruka's lips; and while Haruka merely nodded, turning his eyes away, a pleased warmth shone on his cheekbones.)

Haruka took a deep breath, then, and got to his feet. He glanced down at Rin, as though asking whether Rin would join him; instead, Rin gently shook his head, offering Haruka a nearly uncharacteristically soft smile. "They must be waiting for you," he spoke, leaving out the part where he had to explain to Haruka that it would take a minute or two of solitude for Rin to be able to process everything that had just happened, preferably without someone like Nagisa screaming in his ear.

_Because you want to treasure this moment_

_for reasons you probably don't even know, but_

_that in itself is already reason enough_

He remained seated in silence a good while after Haruka's footsteps had grown silent in the distance. It wasn't until there was a sound of dry, light feet tapping against the floor again that he glanced over his shoulder, only to catch his sister's curious gaze.

"Hey, Gou," he gave her a nod; it was alright if the intruder was family. In response, Gou plopped herself down next to him, almost in the exact place Haruka had sat mere moments ago; strangely enough, Rin couldn't help but hope she'd have chosen his other side.

"I got approval!" she smiled enthusiastically,"For the club to use Samezuka premises, I mean. We'll probably still mostly use our own pool, but during bad weather it's good to have somewhere to train, right? Besides, it's better practice for a competitive environment."

"I bet the headmaster will regret his choice when you guys break all our school records," Rin replied, his voice coming out surprisingly light-hearted even in his own ears; he paused, remembering Nagisa's former words again, and contemplated whether it would be safe to ask Gou about it without fear of earning long, meaningful glances in the process.

He decided to take his chances. "Hey, why _did_ Haru go with you to talk to the headmaster anyway? I can't imagine he would have had any awe-inspiring arguments in your favour, unless he intended to bribe him with those ugly ass wooden keychains."

"Those keychains are our mascot, and he's called Iwatobi-chan," Gou grimaced playfully and shoved Rin on the arm, then shot him a look he couldn't quite interpret. "...But you mean Haruka-senpai didn't tell you? Well, not that I'm entirely surprised to hear that, but–– alright, alright! I'll tell you, sheesh!"

When Gou stalled long enough for Rin's liking, he had grabbed the side of her arm and twisted it like when they were little – not hard enough for it to hurt, but vigorously enough to appear menacing in a way only an older brother should. In response, Gou narrowed her eyes at him briefly, before a secretive smile snaked onto her lips.

"Haruka-senpai asked the headmaster if it would be okay for him to get special permission to use the premises too. You know, not just as part of the Iwatobi team, but on his own." When Gou continued, Rin could tell there was genuine fondness in her tone. "...I think he did it so he could come visit you more often."

For the second time today, Rin's mind went completely blank.

The thing about life is, it shifts when you least expect it to; and it doesn't matter whether it's a morning, nine hours, or the blink of an eye, because you can either hold onto that shift or let it pass you by; but whether Rin ever consciously thought of it this way, whether he ever realized it was at this moment that his life irrefutably clicked in Haruka's direction in a way he could never undo again, well, that didn't really matter.

(Because deep down he could feel the gatekeeper to his most guarded emotions stagger as well;

and when it shifted, it did so to the sound of chimes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: Haruka's POV and jumpstarting these kids' friendship for real.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for having the patience to wait for the third chapter while I was away OD'ing on Harurin hell in Japan! I'll hopefully manage to keep a steady updating pace (at least once a week), so there won't be similar gaps in the near future. Again, a great big thank you for everyone's wonderful comments, and the fact that you guys are bothering to read my self-indulgent drivel at all. 
> 
> This time we'll switch back to Haru's POV. This chapter is dedicated to Comiket and all the doujin stores in Tokyo and Osaka. Thanks for ruining my life.

 

By the time the sound of his phone alerted him of an incoming message, Haruka was already halfway through the door.

_you're late_ , the message would undoubtedly scream, with no punctuation or context, like a casual swipe in nine letters and an apostrophe.

He wasn't, though. The digits of his clock had glared 0750 hours, just as loud, but the message did not serve the purpose of punctuality; in the past days Haruka had grown accustomed to how it anchored him to each morning, just as he had grown accustomed to the abrupt vibration of his phone – first the rough, desolate reverberation against the flat surface of desktops and drawers; eventually the subdued, soft thud against his thigh, his chest, any pocket that would fit a mobile phone.

(He could freeze an entire world within that delicate _jingle_ , after all. Makoto had helped him shift through the menus to find a new message tone, never once asking him why Haruka had chosen this exact moment to stop treating his phone as little more than a glorified paper weight. For that, Haruka felt relieved; he couldn't have given Makoto an answer, any more than he could explain why his face had lit up at the second-to-last option on the list of sounds. All he knew was that once the shower of wind chimes filled the room, a strange serenity settled at the pit of Haruka's stomach, making him nod with conviction.

_That one_

_It should be that one._ )

"No, you're early."

Haruka's voice came out three steps down the stairs, a blind counter to the accusation he did not even bother to verify. He felt the sun trickling on his face, but the sensation paled in comparison to the feeling of accomplishment once the boy waiting for him at the landing did not so much as blink twice at his words.

"Here," Rin greeted him in response; as his face pulled into a lopsided grin, he made Haruka halt in his tracks with an equally blind swing of his arm. Haruka's reflexes caught the medium sized training bag mid-air, and Rin quickly went on. "Timing gear. Captain insisted I bring it along. Maybe you amateurs will find it useful."

There was a tentative, playful arrogance to Rin's voice, one that Haruka knew to retaliate with a blank expression. He could have wasted words, but there seemed to be little point; in roughly five or six steps that cocky look on Rin's face would waver, because in a matter of seconds Haruka would catch up with him, and then the two of them would stand there and wait for Makoto – an exchange that often began in silence, sometimes tentative conversation, yet always cocooned in a strange, gentle echo of all the things neither one of them still completely knew how to say.

The look on Rin's face was hesitant as Haruka walked up to him, tilting his head to the side; there was no specific purpose or meaning to these languid moments of repose, of watching Rin bite down on his lip and commenting on inconsequential nothings like _it better not rain if we're swimming at Iwatobi today_ , of Haruka responding with equally ambiguous monosyllables of amity.

(Still, every morning Haruka would wake up and walk through that door ten minutes early, knowing Rin would be standing there ten minutes early, and somehow those ten minutes of nothingness enveloped them in an unspoken spell of softness that did not break until Makoto eventually emerged at 0800 hours sharp.)

"How thoughtful of your Captain," Makoto commented predictably, once Rin had repeated his former sentiment; the sun had crept ever higher somewhere amidst Haruka's attempts to hold that moment forever. He couldn't help but thank and curse his best friend simultaneously while watching Rin's subdued bravado reignite, washing over them with renewed faith, like a sheepish afterthought to dissolve his former awkwardness.

It didn't... disappoint Haruka, to watch the shift occur, because it was worth it in other ways – worth the sudden smugness of Rin's smiles, the confidence in how he taunted Haruka, the feigned nonchalance in throwing an arm around Haruka's shoulder and telling him to _get going, or did you forget to turn on your brain-software this morning, Haru?_

Of course, Haruka would stare him down, rebuke Rin without twitching a nerve, lift a brow in an equally feigned morose _hey_ ; and although at the back of his mind Haruka wasn't exactly proud that they couldn't help but cling onto Makoto's presence, as the buffer for whichever directness they still couldn't afford to trade with one another in private, it was... enough, for now, to have the chance to express any of this at all.

As Rin's expression twisted triumphantly at Makoto with _well, he probably knows you guys need all the help you can get_ , it now felt like a cue; it gave Haruka the chance to shove the training gear back in Rin's chest and snap with _why should I care about my times now any more than I did before_. But when Rin encountered his stare, there was no exasperation to his eyes, no need to second-guess whether Haruka had gone too far, like in the days before their reconciliation.

It had been a week since he had found Rin at the foot of his house, and every morning... it became easier, somehow, to look Rin in the eye and feel no remorse; easier, to sometimes allow a genuine smile to flicker on Haruka's lips, and for it to reach his eyes before he turned his gaze away; and so, Haruka didn't mind this invisible buffer, because he still had those ten extra minutes each morning, and they gave him hope that one of these days it wouldn't feel awkward anymore; that Haruka could find words to express the humming in his ears, the one that seemed to reverberate all the way from his heart.

(Because there'd be times like these when Rin would say something off the record and send Haruka swerving off course; holding his gaze, a hint of childhood grin tugging away at his mouth, accompanied with _if you don't, you'll never beat me_ ; and Haruka had to turn his head away to hide the way he suddenly felt like someone had attached him to live wire.)

It was lucky, then, that it didn't take them long to reach Iwatobi High this particular morning. Since Summer break had started there were noticeably fewer students around, most of them grumbling over whichever club activity still forced them to wake up at the break of dawn. Among these students was Nagisa, who kept hitting his head of ruffled hair on the curve of Rei's back while the latter was lost in thought, reading over their latest regime.

To be completely honest, the only ones who seemed to spend two thoughts on the actual content of that regime were Rin and Rei – the former because he had taken meticulous pride in crafting it, the latter because Rei's entire existence was probably programmed around theory and praxis. Not that Haruka had any room to judge anyone's linear mental progresses, because he took approximately three and two quarters of a second to dive into the pool after Gou enthusiastically waved them hello.

It was different, though, from so many times before. No–– _he_ was different, and it wasn't as though Haruka hadn't begun to notice; the crisp water that submerged Haruka's senses still accepted him without refrain, but it had not flooded his heart with the weariness of solitude in weeks. Or months? When had those incisions begun to start closing up, allowing him to drift afloat on the faith of his friends? He... couldn't say.

But when his head emerged above the surface, everything here felt _right_ , and his chest felt solid and warm in ways that Haruka hadn't realized was even possible. They always say you never know what you've got until it's gone, but Haruka was pretty sure he had always consciously rejected knowing what he had at all; because there may have been a time when he had allowed himself to hope, a time filled with frustration laced with hidden expectations, pangs of annoyance and overtly familiar cries of _hey, Nanase_ ; and he...

(Haruka watched from a distance as Rei said something that made Rin throw his head back and laugh; the animate laughter spread into his limbs until Rin was shaking all over, oblivious to the sudden, furious blush on Rei's face, and Haruka didn't know why the scene made something soft and heavy pull at him all at once, sinking, sinking, until the hum of the water silenced the tiny whispers swirling about in his mind.)

 

 

 

"Does anyone want to get ice cream? Or shaved ice? There's a place that opened nearby and I've been wanting to try it out, but Chigusa-chan said she's on a diet."

"The only shaved ice I'll be having is some on my back. For the rest of the day. Or maybe a week."

"Come on, Rei-chan! It's not _that_ bad!"

"Easy for you to say, you're the one who landed on it!"

"To be fair, I _did_ warn you about double cannonballs. Technically Nagisa is only halfway to blame."

"...Your hindsight is as appreciated as it is unproductive, Makoto-senpai."

"Well, one out of two isn't bad, I suppose. Which I guess cannot be said for your ability to either sit or walk."

"...Was that sass? Since when has Makoto sassed anyone?"

"Since he started hanging out with your little sist–– _mphmhomhph_ "

"OKAY SO WHO WANTS ICE CREAM––"

"...Huh? What––"

"G-Gou-chan, y-you're–– st-strangling m, me––"

"Nagisa-kun, if you let go of my arm I'll––"

"W, wait, R-Rei––"

"Haru, you slobbering idiot, don't just stand there!! Help me pull him up!"

Haruka's shoulder shoved violently against Rin's as they each lifted one of Rei's arms to hoist him back on his feet; Rei let out a helpless moan where his aching back twisted upon Rin and Haruka's inability to coordinate themselves, and Rin let out another snarl.

"Oi, Haru! I know you have trouble processing gravity on land, but can you at least _try_?!"

Haruka's response came almost automated. "Rin, stop squirming. You're putting too much weight on me. Rei's a person, not a dumbbell."

"Well maybe if you'd seen a dumbbell once in your life you could actually support his weight––"

"Okay okay OKAY," Rei cut them both off, his mouth contorted in a painful grimace, "One, the density of muscle in my body is carefully calculated to an ideal percentage for a track athlete, it does not mean I am _fat_. And second," he drew in a deep breath, before letting out a frustrated cry, "STOP FLIRTING FOR A SECOND AND HELP ME SIT DOWN BEFORE YOU MAUL MY INTESTINES, THANK YOU!!"

It was to Rin's credit that he didn't drop Rei altogether; it wasn't to his credit, though, that his opposite reaction was to dig his fingers so hard into Rei's shoulder that it made Rei yelp in pain anyway. Hiding his face on the side of Rei's head that Haruka couldn't see, Rin sounded like he was grinding his teeth together as he pulled the entirety of Rei's weight off Haruka, and stomped towards a nearby bench like some kind of hysterical second cousin of The Incredible Hulk.

"...Sooo," Nagisa eventually piped up, rubbing the back of his neck once Gou had released him from a headlock, "Now that the Matsuoka siblings have worked through their daily dose of self-denial masqueraded as physical aggression, how about that ice cream?"

"I think you should help Rei home," Makoto responded with a light laugh; as a faint blush rose on Gou's face, undoubtedly reminiscent of whichever shade Rin was currently sporting as he squabbled with Rei out of hearing range, Makoto courteously opted to dance over any hidden implications of Nagisa's words and just gestured at him with patience. "He seems pretty hurt, and you _were_ the primary cause."

"But I want ice cream," Nagisa whined, and it was clear that he was oblivious to those same implications as he went on, "Can't Rin-chan do it? He's––"

The not-so-discreet glance that Makoto shot his way almost made Nagisa bite down on his tongue. "Oh. _Oh_. Okay. Yeah, _fiine_. But you owe me one next time! And you––" he turned to Gou, narrowing his eyes, "You owe me a trip to the chiropractor. I was just saying what we're all thinking, like Rei-chan!"

He seemed to freeze momentarily, as though remembering that Haruka was still standing right next to him; sheepishly, Nagisa let out a nervous laugh, before quickly engaging Gou in a squabble about whether or not she ought to pay for his physical therapy.

Truth be told, Haruka had barely registered Rei's former remark as more than a throwaway jab, but Nagisa's further commentary suddenly made it harder for him to apprehend. It wasn't as if Haruka didn't know what flirting meant; he had ignored enough classmates with fluttering lashes and hopeful giggles to tell when someone tried to waste his time. Still, Haruka had never assumed it could be considered applicable to the asinine back-and-forth he and Rin continuously engaged in – that... didn't sound very logical, after all, considering that Rin's interactions with people mostly involved him getting agitated, while Haruka had spent most of his life addressing others with what could at its mildest be described as bluntness.

Rei's comment, therefore, had made little sense. This was why Haruka's natural instinct was to push it into the recesses of his mind, and to never revisit such irrelevancies again. And maybe he would have succeeded in that, too, had Nagisa not reminded him of it; more to the point, reminded Haruka of Rin's violent reaction to the mere suggestion, splintering that memory into confusing pieces of shrapnel which clung to Haruka with all the intensity of Rin's initial response.

As he glanced over to the far end of the parking lot, where Rin was still gesturing wildly at Rei, Haruka suddenly felt... nervous, in a way he couldn't really put into words. If what Nagisa said was true and everyone else perceived their banter as flirting, did that include Rin? And if it did, was _this_ the real reason Rin always appeared so awkward with him in private?

_Does he think I was––_

_Does he think I tried––_

_...Is he upset?_

Haruka's brows drew together in an unexpectedly concerned frown; it was the first time in longer than he could remember that he felt the primal urge to just dive back into the comforting oblivion of the pool, but at the same time there was... something, underneath that defensive urge, telling him to hold still.

"Okay, I think he's good to go. Nagisa, just watch out for the base of the spinal cord, and you probably won't leave Rei paralyzed. Much."

Rin appeared more or less composed as he approached the four of them anew, pushing hair off his face. But once he made the mistake of instinctively glancing at Haruka, Haruka returned that gaze in an equally instinctive, open stare; Rin's eyes widened for a split second with something akin to panic, which made a cold and heavy pressure cling to the edges of Haruka's already festering doubt.

It was obvious Haruka wasn't the only person to pick up this, though. Makoto hastily cleared his throat and lightly gestured at Nagisa to scamper off, who did, with no further protests save for sticking out his tongue.

Perfectly in sync, Gou took a few steps towards her brother and reassuringly touched Rin's arm. She forced as much genuine light-heartedness into her voice as she could. "They have like twenty different syrups for shaved ice! You should try some of the weirder ones with me, right, onii-chan?"

"Huh?" Rin replied, bewildered, until the context of Gou's words dawned on him. "Uh, yeah, about that, well––"

He turned his head, seemingly unable to decide whether it was safer to look at Haruka, or Makoto, or the tiny strip of paper glued onto the asphalt next to the sole of his shoe. For a moment Haruka wondered if Rin was going to decline the offer simply to get out of what he clearly perceived to be an awkward situation; how many times in the past had Rin already clung to reject, simply out of unease?

And had Haruka been any other person in the world, maybe this particular thought might have launched a wave of self-pity; in his shoes, most people probably would have succumbed to the sinking regret of knowing he was undoubtedly to blame for Rin's insecurities, too. But Haruka had never been like most people, nor was he naturally inclined to prioritize his own guilt over Rin's happiness; and so, as bewildered as Haruka had felt merely moments ago, the lost expression on Rin's face was enough to blow all confusion out of his system, replacing it with an abrupt resolve.

It wasn't like Haruka hadn't always known Rin was self-conscious to a fault. It hadn't been until long afterwards that Haruka realized this was also why he had always sort of prided himself on knowing this had never been the case between the two of them: the Rin he had missed for years had never cared about what Haruka thought or didn't think about anything, but simply laughed in his face even when Haruka deemed Rin too embarrassing and weird to live.

The Rin Haruka had missed wouldn't have cared about any of this; instead, he would have leaned at Haruka with an irritating grin, pulled him by the hand and mouthed _Nanase, that just makes you the_ worst _flirt in the world._

(Maybe it would take more time than Haruka had hoped for to undo the damage of Rin's life in Australia; maybe Haruka simply had no idea over the full extent of how deep some of those insecurities truly ran, or why; but what he did know was that this was no reason to not keep trying, to dispel them with everything he had got.)

"Rin. Let's go."

There were times the puzzle pieces clicked into place without a trace of conscious effort, making Haruka wonder why he had always considered human interaction so troublesome and pointless; because the words once more flowed out soft and charged with life, and where he touched Rin's wrist, a warmth seeped from his fingers into Rin's skin that he knew they could both sense.

For a second Rin stared at him as though Haruka was insane.

But then the second passed, and a small yet relieved smile lit on Rin's lips; it did something unexpected to Haruka's heart, causing his breath to still for the time it took for Rin's expression to morph back into his supposedly nonchalant poise.

"I'll make you try the rattlesnake one, Gou," Rin laughed, and his grin gave away absolute no internal distress, "You're gonna regret wanting to try weird flavors, 'cause I'm an expert."

As Gou pulled a face and snapped, _something like that doesn't even exist!_ Rin simply shook his head and shrugged, gesturing with his left arm.

All the while, Haruka noticed Rin's right hand never moved, never breaking contact with his own.

It made Haruka smile into the collar of his jacket.

 

 

 

Turns out the ice cream parlor did not, as it happens, have rattlesnake flavor; Rin did get Gou to gag by making her try out honeyed wasabi, but coughed at least twice as loud himself when he shoved a spoonful of spicy rose hip into his mouth. Makoto laughed whole-heartedly at both of them, while Haruka remained silent; it wasn't that he was _that_ engrossed in his fish-flavored shaved ice, but he also found it difficult to comment on the scene in ways that required actual words.

Life would have been so much easier if he could have simply projected his feelings on others. Haruka had thought of this often, in the days that followed Rin's return, but he had thought of it almost daily ever since they had reconciled. Not that Haruka knew what he felt, exactly, any more than he knew _why_ he felt it; but as far as he was concerned, such details were not as important as the fact that these feelings spurred him on to _do_ things – as opposed to the endless listlessness that had held him its grip for years.

That's why it felt... right, somehow, to be in Rin's presence now; although they were still ironing out the kinks on a friendship that had barely taken shape before, Haruka didn't doubt for a second that they couldn't somehow make it work. Because they had made it work before, _they_ had worked before, and they would do again because they both _wanted_ to; Rin had... agreed to as much, after all, on the afternoon of their first joint practice since the relay.

He glanced up from his cup, listening in on Rin and Makoto's debate on the worst possible ice cream flavors. He didn't envy the way Rin casually shrugged, _I was once at an all-you-can-eat buffet and they served tomato sorbet and it tasted like frozen spaghetti sauce_ , any more than he envied Makoto's lighthearted laughter of _have you ever tried chocolate and celery though, talk about reward and punishment in one_ ; but he couldn't help the envy of knowing that should he pull himself and Gou away from the table, nothing in that conversation would change.

_I... wanted us to be a team again_

_So why can you only properly talk to me in the presence of others?_

As though life was insistent on driving the point home in a twist of irony, within the next few seconds Rin brought Haruka out of his thoughts by poking at his cup with a tiny spoon.

"Oi, Haru. Is that seriously even edible?"

The tone of his voice made Haruka's eyes narrow with warning, yet the diminutive act of defiance drew something mischievous out in Rin's smile. Before Haruka could stop him, one of Rin's arms had clutched in place around Haruka's neck while the other one stole a taste of the fish-flavored dessert, soon gagging into Haruka's ear. "Blech, are you kidding me? How does that not make you want to hurl?"

"You're so noisy," Haruka heard himself respond with a sharp shove of his elbow, which returned Rin back into his seat; as Rin continued to laugh at the expression on his face, Haruka could sense an odd heat on his cheeks, one that he hastily drowned in the comforting coolness of the ice.

"And you probably have no sense of taste," Rin flicked the small plastic spoon in Haruka's direction, where it landed in his cup and sort made Haruka want to jab the spoon in Rin's eye.

"Says the guy who wears Burberry scarves," Haruka muttered under his breath, unable to explain why his desire to get the final word in exceeded his usual disposition not to care. Rin just chuckled, though; and as he flashed his teeth at Haruka in a single, infuriating grin, Haruka could feel the entirety of that previous sentence turning around on its head.

No, Haruka _was_ able to explain _exactly_ why he needed that final word – because the only true defeat in failure was knowing this inconsequential, senseless conversation might ultimately draw to an end at all.

He couldn't say why a tiny, restless part of him clung to it so desperately, when everything about communicating with Rin ought to have made him feel like tearing his hair out. But none of his other friends could spark Haruka from zero to a hundred with just a few misplaced words of competitive comeback, none of his other friends knew how to call him an idiot in fifty different ways of the Japanese language, none of his other friends... could hold his silence in a manner that was both charged and comfortable, and still make Haruka want to break it of his own accord.

(When he turned his head, he caught Makoto staring at the two of them, and the smile on Makoto's face was enough to make Haruka inexplicably want to dive under the table to escape the sudden tenderness in his eyes.)

"Well, I should head home now, before mother thinks the heat wave has given me a stroke. Onii-chan, do you want to come over before you go back to Samezuka?"

When Gou glanced up at Rin with curiosity, Haruka could tell the innocence of her question left him surprised. Across the rooftops the day was slowly growing older, a splash of red as vibrant as the raspberry of Makoto's syrup, wading in the horizon; if Rin wanted to get back to Samezuka before nightfall, he would have to go along with Gou now to have enough time to visit his family.

Still, Rin hesitated. Haruka could see it in the sudden tension of Rin's shoulders, the way he dodged Gou's stare and hid his eyes in a scratch of his head; it was as though half of him was dawdling, waiting for something, and it tightened the part inside Haruka that tried to guess at the reasons why.

"It's alright," Makoto cut in gently, pushing back his chair as he got up to motion at Gou, "I'll walk her home, so you don't have to worry."

Rin's initial response was an odd kind of relief; however, in a matter of seconds his jaw tensed in what Haruka could only describe as abrupt suspicion. There was a soft thud under the table where Gou's foot met Rin's shin, though, which made Rin not only bite down on his lip, but also shake his head, breathing out _fine, alright, damn_.

Rin then nodded at Makoto in a somewhat sheepish apology. "Yeah, thanks, I... appreciate that. Gou, tell mom I said hi."

The smile on Gou's face was oddly shy; she took after her brother by hiding this awkwardness in the exuberant bounce of her steps, waving Rin and Haruka goodbye as they eventually parted outside the ice cream parlor. Rin's gaze remained fixed intently on her petite figure walking in sync with Makoto's taller frame, but it wasn't until they disappeared from view that Haruka realized Rin's sudden wariness of Makoto must have been triggered by Nagisa's former jab.

From the corner of his eye, Haruka stole a glance at Rin. In tune to the silence that fell upon them, Haruka noticed a funny kind of nervousness slowly seeping into his limbs now that the two of them were alone again. He had tried swallowing all of it down with indifference, yet as much as Haruka was normally a master of self-inflicted ignorance, the prospect of Rin's theoretical unease simply refused to let him go.

(If Rin still remembered Nagisa's words after practice, did this mean he also remembered Rei's?)

Haruka took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry if I accidentally flirted with you."

Had Haruka known a single thing about biblical figures, he might have compared Rin's sudden petrification to a pillar of salt; then again, perhaps a spineless monster of Japanese horror stories was a more apt description once Rin craned his head around, eyes frozen in an almost morbid fascination. "Wh..... _what?!_ "

Haruka swallowed, trying not to feel derailed by Rin's outburst of panic. If the topic was this touchy, it was once more Haruka's responsibility to clear away any misconceptions; it wasn't as though those hadn't always been the root of all their issues to begin with. "I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't realize I was flirting with you. I won't do it again if you don't want me to."

He could virtually see the gears slowly grinding into motion in Rin's mind, until they had twisted long enough to leave Rin groaning aloud. When Rin spoke, his voice came out exasperated and high-pitched. "I'm. Going to kill. Rei."

Haruka frowned. This... wasn't exactly the reaction he had expected; he had assumed Rin would come off as relieved rather than increasingly agitated. To be honest, the discrepancy of the moment was starting to grow on his nerves, as much as he had tried to remain calm and amicable. Hadn't he tried to do the right thing? Why was Rin being so difficult?

"That's... So you don't want me to stop? Or you do? You're not making any sense."

"No–– Yes–– Haru, shut up."

Rin choked up for a moment, running a hand through his hair while decidedly also avoiding Haruka's eyes. "That's–– Listen, we're friends, right? It's not–– We're not––"

"But Nagisa said––"

"Look, Haru, I don't know what Nagisa's told you but I can assure you, that kid has dedicated far too much time to making other people's lives insufferable," Rin cut him off, "Which leads me to believe he was messing with you. And succeeded. So just forget what he said. I don't think you could flirt with another person if you tried."

Haruka blinked. In the two seconds that it took for Rin's words to sink in, the scale of concern and aggravation within him shifted dangerously towards the latter; he took a step towards Rin, unable to help the sudden provocation as though on principle. "....What's that supposed to mean?"

"I didn't mean––" Rin visibly backtracked for a second, then shot Haruka a suspicious glance. "Wait, what... what exactly would _you_ know about flirting?"

"What's there to know specifically? You make it sound like I'm five years old."

"...Well, to be fair that's often how you come across when it comes to stuff like this."

"Rin, just because I don't care about irrelevant things doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

"That... is probably arguable, and not necessarily in your favor."

Haruka opened his mouth to lash out with some deadpan retort, when suddenly something caught his tongue. It could have been the sound of sirens in the distance, the rustling of leaves as a warm gust of wind passed them by, or the thumping of Haruka's own heart beating with excess adrenaline; but what all of it made him realize was a lightness that soared in his stomach, bursting out with uncontrollable chuckles, until it was all he could do to hold down the laughter with the back of his hand.

Rin's expression was a physical apparition of the word _what?!_ , screamed at the top of his lungs; yet Haruka simply shook his head, and gestured at the empty space around them.

"There's no-one here," Haruka spoke, and couldn't stop the sincere wonder from seeping into his voice, "...But we're still arguing."

"...So?" Rin snapped, but failed to make his tone as cynical as he'd probably intended; his expression wavered with something distantly vulnerable, the way it had done each morning, but Haruka could tell it no longer left him tongue-tied with hesitation.

It took a herculean effort for Haruka to hold his voice steady when he spoke. It was equally hard holding Rin's gaze, knowing the iridescence of his eyes might easily give him away, but it was worth it just to breathe the words out anyway.

"Is it some kind of Matsuoka specialty? Because I'm beginning to think you don't know what flirting means, either."

"...Whatever, you're still a terrible talker, _Nanase_ ," Rin muttered and shoved at Haruka's forehead with his palm.

(And in that moment, something inside Haruka felt like coming undone; the sound of crystalline shards crackling and shattering open was familiar, somehow, in a way that made him distantly realize that this was neither the first nor the last time Rin managed to wrench open something Haruka hadn't even remembered ever having sealed.)

In the twitch of Rin's eye, witnessing the grimace that twisted on his face, Haruka ultimately failed to choke down the smile that played on his own lips; it spread through him in that welcome afterglow, in the subdued delight of understanding that

_you're not bouncing off someone else's buffer, but_

_showing me all of yourself, as you are_

Why... had it taken so long for Haruka to remember, how all of this felt like? For years he had perceived Rin's miraculous ability to pull him out of his skin as something to be rejected, yet the life he had lived without Rin had been even worse – because Haruka hadn't only lost Rin at his worst, but also Rin at his best.

_Like this, like now;_

(like when Rin had made fun of Gou while she tried to eat plain ice outside her syrup, then bought her a new one in strawberry; like when Rin had leaned back in his chair and dialed Nagisa to make sure Rei had gotten back home safely; like when Rin had stopped at the sweets aisle on their way out and, after pointing out to Makoto that Ren and Ran would probably love a specialty treat, picked out one for Nitori)

and Haruka, he had remained quiet for all of this, yet it wasn't until now that he knew what it was that he had wanted to say:

_I... want us to be a team again_

_because I want us to be complete again_

_(and I don't know if I can do it without you_ )

He felt warm, he felt cold, he felt like he was suddenly so... old; like he was only now beginning to fathom the timeless whispers that had pulled him under for so long, and not be afraid to heed their call. It... may not have been everything, but it was a start, and... Haruka couldn't explain why all of this felt so cripplingly important, somehow, but for now... he wanted to hold onto that knowledge, the way he had been holding onto the tiniest details of today without even realizing it.

Haruka tried to keep his face as deadpan as possible, but traces of relieved mischievousness kept trickling through the cracks anyway. "...So, I _could_ theoretically flirt."

"You could also theoretically shut up, but I don't see you exercising _that_ constitutional right," Rin retorted with a grunt, but hardly had any more success trying to force the corners of his mouth from pulling upwards.

(Where the fragments of their smiles met, Haruka could have sworn the radiance around them felt almost tangible to the touch; it poured out of Rin, from a place Haruka had not witnessed in years, and left him wondering if the same was true of himself.)

"I'll walk you to your train," Haruka spoke, and it was not a question.

 

 

 

At 2315 hours that same evening the sound of chimes filled his room.

_that moody loner thing you've got going? only works for you as long as you don't actually open your mouth. i could help you with your lines, though. i'm a definite hit with the girls._

As the luminescent glow of his phone flickered in the darkness, the feeling that settled into Haruka's chest was restless and curious all at once; each press of the buttons made his fingertips tingle, as though someone had lit a sea of fairy lights across his skin.

**It's alright. You can keep Nitori.**

Thirty seconds, forty seconds, fifty three seconds and a response.

_screw you haru. i bet i could pick up a million girls before you landed even one_

He read the message, imagining in his mind's eye a radiant, cocky grin, a drawn out voice, a hand pressed into the small of his back.

**I'm not interested. If you want a dating contest, go play Persona 4.**

Thirty-seven seconds.

(It wasn't like Haruka was counting.)

_you're impossible, you know that? ps i bet you picked yukiko_

**I bet you picked Yosuke.**

_OH COME ON_

It was... funny, how that single sound of his message tone was enough to make it harder to breathe, for a tiny fraction in time; the words in themselves were void of any actual meaning and Haruka knew, but he was surprised to realize he didn't actually care. It... made no sense, but he didn't care.

That night he fell asleep, his phone nestled between the pillows next to his head.

The following morning, Haruka walked out the door, twenty minutes early.

He found Rin waiting, twenty minutes early.

"I was starting to think you'd be late," Rin said with a wry smile, and whatever had begun to ravel on the day before continued to pull Haruka apart at the seams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had vivid flashes to Nozmo's art of young Rin and Haruka while writing parts of this chapter, so if you haven't seen [this](http://junjouprince.tumblr.com/post/70559954120/love-makes-ya-strikes-a-pose-foolish) piece of art yet, you definitely should.
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: Nagisa tries to ruin everyone's lives with a movie night, Rin is a self-conscious loser, and the saga of if-Haru-never-said-unashamed-and-weird-things-these-kids-would-never-get-anything-done continues.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you everyone for continuing to leave me amazing comments – I can't stress how much it means to me to know people are enjoying the story. While I would be writing this thing basically for an audience of one (me, I am self-indulgent like that), it motivates me to be less lazy hahah. Hopefully I can keep up a steady pace of updates now that I am slowly drawing towards chapters that I have long since had planned out in my head.
> 
> This time we're back in Rin's head. I hope you enjoy what happens inside it.

_From: iwatobipenguinsan@xx.co.jp_

_To: papilionoidea@xx.co.jp, matsuokarin@xx.co.jp, koupyon@xx.co.jp, makoto12@xx.co.jp, nanaseh@xx.co.jp_

_Subject: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_this saturday 5 pm onwards, i bring the dvds, you bring something to eat, NO EXCUSES_ (｡•ˇ‸ˇ•｡)

_From: koupyon@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_sorry, I've already got plans_ (=ＴェＴ=) _I have other friends besides you guys you know_

_From: makoto12@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_Sounds like fun! Too bad Gou-chan won't make it._

_From: papilionoidea@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_Nagisa-kun, were you planning on telling me about this?_

_From: nanaseh@xx.co.jp_

_To: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_Re: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_ok_

_From: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_To: nanaseh@xx.co.jp_

_Re:Re: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_...you're supposed to hit respond to all, dumbass_

_From: nanaseh@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re:Re: MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_ok_

_From: iwatobipenguinsan@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re:Re:Re:Re MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_does that mean rinrin's coming too???_ (⁀ᗢ⁀)

_From: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_yeah sure whatever_

_From: iwatobipenguinsan@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_ok!!!! makochan pls bring something to drink. rinchan pls buy snacks. haruchan pls dont bring fish.  reichan pls wear something comfortable_ (✧≖‿ゝ≖)

_From: makoto12@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_What are we watching? No horror, please._

_From: iwatobipenguinsan@xx.co.jp_

_To: all_

_Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re MOVIE NIGHT AT REI-CHAN'S_

_not telling!!! it's a SURPRISE_ ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ

 

The cheerful emoticon at the end of Nagisa's e-mail was vaguely foreboding. As a person, Nagisa had always been nothing short of a force of nature; like all forces of nature, though, it was impossible to tell when he actually opted to use his powers for good. As such, Rin couldn't help the deep-rooted suspicion towards any plan Nagisa came up with on the sly, because there was always more than a 30% chance it was somehow geared towards his demise.

Rin stared at the chain of e-mails for a while, hesitant whether to add anything. Finally he decided against it; he had already put great effort into sounding as nonchalant about the offer as possible, and any further interest he expressed would clash with casually asking Haruka to join him for a trip to the convenience store beforehand.

...Not that Rin, you know, specifically _planned_ for that kind of thing, but on the completely hypothetical chance that he'd feel like it –stress on the word _hypothetical_ – then he would need to leave his options open, in case he had come off as too eager before. Right?

After all, this most definitely couldn't have been the exact same tactic he employed practically every night lately, to gauge the optimal time and frequency at which he deemed it inconspicuous enough to message Haruka; likewise, it must have been a mere coincidence that he always found himself in the vicinity of his phone around 8 pm and 11 pm, just as it was a coincidence that he would keep rotating those times so that it did not come off as habitual. At the very least, there was nothing planned about counting down appropriate intervals between each response, so Haruka would assume they followed the pattern of someone who was merely killing time.

...No, yeah, that would have been sad, wouldn't it.

(As he leaned down on his bed, Rin was pretty sure something inside him was laughing hysterically, like it had done for days.)

Okay, so, a moment of rare honesty: the imminence of his self-denial hitting a brick wall? _Had_ probably loomed in the distance, ever since the night he and Haruka first started messaging one another two weeks ago. Still, Rin had been counting on his stubbornness to tide him over for at least another two, maybe three weeks before the inevitable concession. It easily might have done, judging by his former track record; yet one of the biggest problems with opening up to the world was that other people in his life _weren't_ necessarily as intentionally blind, or prone to withholding their views.

The first signs had been superfluous enough to ignore. He hadn't even been _doing_ anything incriminating that one afternoon –unless somehow wanting to finish homework counts as double innuendo– when Nitori suddenly stuck out his head from the top bunk.

"Senpai, I'm glad you're feeling better these days."

As much as Rin was used to hearing the most unexpected and ridiculous things coming out of Nitori's mouth, to pin the blame on him for the entire resulting conversation would have been unfair. After all, Rin _did_ counter with an instinctive "Huh?", so when Nitori gave him a shy smile and hesitated for a moment before answering, Rin kind of had it coming.

"You seem... different, somehow. Happier. Not as... distant? I heard some of the underclassmen talk about it, too."

Rin's jaw tightened as though on reflex. "....People are _talking_ about me?"

Nitori's expression immediately clouded with the concern that he had spoken out of turn, and he was quick to wave his hands in the air to dispel the former words. "W, well, not like that, but... Senpai, to be fair, you _do_ have a bit of reputation in Samezuka."

As Rin only shot him a blank look in response, Nitori went on, now politely gesturing with his hand. "You were always one of the best swimmers here, but then the relay final happened, and... well, of course people will talk." The rest, bless him, came out as an abrupt afterthought. "––But they're saying good things! Honest! They were just commenting that you're... less intimidating now, as opposed to around the time of the finals? And that–– Oh, no, never mind."

Sweet, socially inept Nitori, catching himself two steps too late every time. Really, Rin should have known better than to take the bait, but he was also oddly fascinated with the thought of being _someone_ in Samezuka; try as he might, his natural thirst for attention couldn't pass up on a chance at unexpected ego boost. " _What_ are they saying exactly?"

When Nitori still hesitated, at odds with whether it was safe to divulge the information, Rin made his expression soften. "Please. I'd really like to know, Ai."

Alright, so it was sort of sneaky to pull that card, but it also wasn't Rin's fault Nitori fell for it every time; not like he used it in ill intent, anyway, because Rin _had_ noticed a distinct lack of agitation over their shared conversations lately – whether it was because Nitori had become more mindful of his personal space or because Rin had become more patient with him, he didn't know. One way or the other, though, there must have been some truth to Nitori's suggestion that Rin was less distant now, because to have this discussion at all did not strike him as painfully intrusive as it might have once been.

Rin would change his mind about that, of course, in approximately three seconds.

"Well, they speculated that you're less wound up because you look like you've 'gotten laid'."

The air quotes Nitori expressed the sentiment with did little to downplay Rin's urge to shoot the messenger. In the absence of firearms, the math textbook that escaped his grip was a considerable substitute; it was to Nitori's credit that he knew to dodge it instinctively. (Even if Nitori did _not_ dodge the exercise book that soon followed, once he piped in with a _oh, senpai, would you rather I told them you haven't?_ which, to this day, Rin could not say was spoken in complete innocence or not.)

Rin had intentionally avoided thinking about that particular scene for the next few days, trying not to dwell too hard on the obvious implications therein. None of it had to _mean_ anything, after all; none of it was also, strictly speaking, true. If some stupid kids wanted to gossip, so what? It wasn't as though being happier was a crime. For all they knew, Rin's sudden shift in mood could have originated from a hug pillow in the shape of the prime minister of Sweden, so what the hell ever.

Much to Rin's dismay, it wasn't just Nitori and some nosey underclassmen who had paid notice, though. What made him far more unnerved was the exchange he had had with Captain Mikoshiba.

Fine, so this time he'd probably set himself up for the kill, sitting in the locker room after regular practice and going through the previous night's messages on his phone. (Rin had made a jab about Haruka having worn the same hairstyle since he was twelve, to which Haruka replied that Rin shouldn't have changed his since the current one "didn't hide Rin's gigantic forehead as well." Haruka would probably be pleased to know that the sound Rin had made at that grave insult was enough to rouse Nitori out of his sleep.)

The conversation had continued for a good while longer, a game of backhanded and not-so-backhanded insults which continuously left Rin surprised at the quickness (and sharpness) of Haruka's wit; it was so easy to forget sometimes that underneath that listless exterior hid an observant, alert mind. Which was also incredibly ironic, because there were so many other ways in which Haruka could be so infuriatingly _stupid_ ; like missing completely obvious punch lines, or chances to exercise his supposed knowledge of flirtation – not that, you know, Rin specifically _wanted_ him to do that, but it was the principle of it that counted, since Haruka had been so adamant that he theoretically could.

Instead, Haruka would always respond with something unexpected, something Rin hadn't tried to set up with his own messages; it was all sorts of fascinating and irritating, because the ambiguity of those responses often left Rin genuinely bewildered. Which was, as it happened, why Rin was going through those same messages after practice at all, to try and figure out whether there was any hidden implication in Haruka's claim that "the old you didn't need to rely on ponytails to try and make him look cool."

It was at this point that Captain Mikoshiba had slapped a hearty hand on his shoulder out of nowhere. "Matsuoka! Can't wait 'till you're back in the dorms to text your girlfriend?"

Rin's expression must have been alarmed enough to stir natural sympathy, since Mikoshiba pulled back and smiled at him with arms crossed over his chest. "Hah, you think it's not my job to notice these things? Yamanaka was dating someone since May, and I think his recent performance issues coincide with them breaking up in early July." He tilted his head with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, though. In your case a cute girlfriend will probably improve your times and boost your morale."

"T, that's not it," Rin choked out, unable to process all the potentially implicating information coming out of Mikoshiba's mouth, "I–– Sorry, but I don't have a girlfriend, Captain."

Mikoshiba's brow lifted in mild surprise, but the look was gone as quickly as it came; the friendly smile on his face never once wavered. "Well, boyfriend then! Either way, I'm sure––"

Rin drew in breath so sharply it came out in a high-pitched wheeze. "I–– I don't have a–– No friends, I don't have any––" he paused hastily, then groaned. "Shit, that's not what I meant––"

Mikoshiba looked puzzled. "I'm sorry if I'm mistaken," he spoke, sounding so unbearably amicable and honest that Rin kind of wanted to throw his phone right in Mikoshiba's face, just to avoid having to hear the rest of that sentence, "...But trust me, I _know_ that look. It's––"

Rin was on his feet before a single other syllable left Mikoshiba's lips.

"SORRY I THINK MY MOM'S CALLING ME I GOTTA GO," Rin's voice came out in an unintentional, bellowing monotone as he slammed the phone on his ear; as he went on, his tone remained stilted and unnatural, switching into unwarranted English with, "HELLO MOTHER, HOW ARE YOU, EVERYTHING HAPPENS SO MUCH" before backing out of the locker room in haste.

At the end of the day, though, Rin wasn't sure which was worse; the fact that these tiny remarks from the universe (which clearly hadn't stopped hounding him, like some sort of slighted teenage nerd in an online multiplayer game) proved that other people had begun to notice, or that sooner or later he would have to stop pretending like _he_ hadn't noticed.

...Like he didn't know, almost agonizingly well, that this whole situation with Haruka had long since exceeded the boundaries of what he considered regular friendship.

(For once, the hysterical laughter inside Rin tapered, if only for the seconds it took for him to bury his face in the back of his arm.)

_Because it's not Makoto who makes you want to punch things and grin like a maniac all at once;_

_it's not Rei who makes you look forward to running to the train station out of breath each morning;_

_and it most definitely isn't Nagisa whose long stares leave you with the inexplicable urge to reach out and touch his hand;_

and although all of those emotions were laced with undertones that Rin couldn't, wouldn't, absolutely refused to think about right now, the absolutely _worst_ part about it? Was that none of this was bound to the events of the past few days, weeks, even months – none of it was as unfamiliar and strange as Rin desperately tried to allege, because he'd _felt_ all of it, once upon a time, in the few ludicrous months he had spent with Haruka back in sixth grade.

That's... what made it so unnerving though, wasn't it?

That whatever... _this_ was, Rin was pretty sure it had always been there, in the layers of the years he had spent trying to forget; being at constant odds with Haruka after his return had made it easier to ignore, but in re-establishing their friendship Rin had also invariably shot himself in the foot.

How was he supposed to beat down all these troublesome, confusing thoughts now that his regular defense mechanisms had taken a leave of absence (what good was an emotional gatekeeper if they randomly decided to vacation in Aruba without his permission?) – more so once it dawned on Rin that Haruka had the miraculous ability to bypass all his security codes anyway?

Because Rin could plan as many strategies as he wanted to conceal the excitement that followed each nightly text message, practice a thousand blank looks to counter the smiles that tugged at his lips; he could drown his nervousness of actually touching Haruka by invading his physical space with boisterous arrogance, or come up with endless excuses just to catch a moment of Haruka's time alone;

and although somewhere at the very recesses of his conscious mind, Rin knew he couldn't keep hanging onto this forever –because there was a limit on his refusal to own up to what he wanted, a limit he had already hit once before with nearly disastrous consequences–, he just... didn't know what he was supposed to _do_ , once he let go of that denial and became suspended on hope.

_...hope, for what exactly?_

(...No)

(Not... yet)

Rin's mouth twisted into a mirthless smile in spite of himself. He kept staring at the foreboding emoticon at the end of Nagisa's e-mail, fingertips hovering on the keys; the prospect of declining the original offer was suddenly very tempting in his mind.

_you're... a mess, Matsuoka_

_does it have to be so fucking difficult for you, all the time, every time?_

Try as he might, Rin couldn't bring himself to type out the words. It was so typical of him to plunge head first into self-pity, to counter anxiety with little regard for others; but what had changed in these silly little weeks was that he felt _responsible_ for his actions again. And as much as the carrion whispers of his insecurity still insisted Rin would only ever make a fool of himself, for assuming any of his friends legitimately gave a damn about the outcome of his choices, he only had to take in a deep breath to remember––

_(Thank you for being my friend.)_

_(Do you think we could be a team again?)_

_(Rin. Let's go.)_

_(I'll walk you to your train.)_

––Haruka's voice, which had never left his head, like the most bittersweet reminder of all;

(that on the 8th day that Rin had woken up to reach Haruka's house at 0740 hours in the morning, Haruka finally opened that door at the exact moment Rin arrived; and while there might have been something oddly poetic about the knowledge that Haruka would always, _always_ eventually pick up on everything Rin could not admit aloud, what shrouded that relief was the sinking realization that sooner or later, Rin's disguises were also bound to run out of time.)

And then, well, one way or another he'd be forced to find out exactly where that left the two of them, wouldn't he?

 _and if you_ aren't _the only one who feels this way_

_then what will you do?_

 

 

 

"What did you bring?"

Haruka's eyes darted at Rin briefly, but returned just as quickly to the rows of potato chips wrapped in colourful plastic. His response came out in a single, absent-minded sigh. "Hm?"

"For the movie night." Rin gestured at the aisle, as though providing a visual cue for Haruka to latch onto, in case he had already managed to forget why they were here at all. "I'm obviously getting snacks, so..."

"Oh." Haruka barely blinked, though. "I didn't bring anything."

Rin did an instinctive, sharp forty-five degree turn. "Wh– Oi! What the hell?!"

"Nagisa told me not to bring fish. So I didn't."

"...I kinda think that _wasn't_ a suggestion to show up empty-handed, moron."

"Then he should have said so."

"Tch–– here, you're buying these, alright?! No way in hell am I gonna let you mooch off the rest of us."

"I didn't bring any extra money though."

"H, _Haru_ , I swear to god..."

Rin ran one frustrated hand through his hair, gripping the shopping basket with another. He didn't even bother finishing that sentence, since there seemed to be little point; Haruka had already slipped into a different consciousness altogether.

When Haruka had promised to accompany him to the convenience store, it had almost been _too_ easy to get him to agree. This probably ought to have been Rin's first warning that the actual visit might not live up to his expectations (whatever those had been – ten minutes in Famima hardly counted for date night 101). Haruka had appeared lost in thought the second he showed up, and Rin had been pressed to wrangle more than three words out of his mouth during the entire time. The last thing Rin genuinely cared about was arguing with Haruka over a bag of chips, but it seemed that was all he could expect to settle for.

The evening was clearly getting to an awesome start.

Rin couldn't help the frustrated grimace that made his lips twitch. So much for hoping that tonight might provide some kind of clarification for the current state of their friendship; if Haruka already seemed about as interested in his existence as he was in a root canal, Rin might as well have that conversation with the curry bun that stared at him in the heat display. (At least the bun would taste good going down, Rin reasoned, as he bought one just in case.)

Luckily Haruka had the decency to point Rin in the right direction as they searched for Rei's house in the unfamiliar neighborhood. It was Nagisa, of course, who opened the door; he seemed completely undeterred by Haruka's lack of offerings (which made Rin wonder, briefly, if Haruka had actually been _correct_ in his assumption to bring nothing at all), ushering the two of them into the living room.

"Oh good, you're here," Makoto visibly lit up, his concentration slipping long enough for Rei to KO his character on the game they were in the middle of, "Nagisa refused to reveal which DVDs he brought until you'd arrived. I'm hoping this isn't because he assumed I'd bolt for the door."

"Good thing I don't have such reservations anymore!" Nagisa said secretively, then held out a film cover with both hands like a newborn lion cub at Pride Rock. "Ta dah! We're watching a foreign film called _Prometheus_."

"...Isn't that the sequel prequel what-ever-quel to _Alien_...?"

"You're right, Rei-chan! I was too young to see it in the cinemas when it came out, so I'm making up for that now. I heard there's an awesome scene where the heroine gives herself a C-section."

"N, Nagisa!! I told you, no horror!"

"Mako-chan, it's not horror, it's science fiction! And action! And... hopefully all sorts of gross and hilarious things, but that remains to be seen, won't it? So gather 'round!"

Rin only lifted a single brow, glancing at Haruka; in response, Haruka gave a barely visible shrug. Rin sincerely suspected that it didn't actually matter to Haruka in the slightest whether they were watching a Hollywood blockbuster or a delicate French art film, since his mind would only attend the premises for approximately one fifths of the movie anyway.

Had he not been so vividly aware of this, Rin might have been able to focus on the film too. It frustrated him to know that normally, he would have been right there with Rei, engrossed in complaining about the inconsistencies which eventually led a team of space explorers to discover alien life on a desolate planet; normally, Rin would have loved to have laughed at the stupidity of these so-called scientists (Nagisa kept shouting "Aahh, that's dangerous, dangerous!" while Rei moaned with "You have _got_ to be kidding me?!" once a guy simply reached out to a hostile-looking snake creature emerging from black goo), but he couldn't force his heart into it – not even to laugh at Makoto when he covered his eyes and wailed, _this isn't fun you guys, couldn't we watch a comedy instead?!_

No, Rin hated the fact that he could do little else besides stare at that empty spot between Haruka's neck and shoulder, trying to imagine what could have possibly caused this sudden lapse into extreme introversion. It didn't feel like outright rejection, so much as Haruka simply drifting off into a world that others could not access; as used to it as Rin probably should have been by now, he still couldn't shake off the feeling that something about Haruka's continuous silence was _different_.

Whether it was in the slight tension in Haruka's gaze, the trace of lingering melancholy around his mouth, a hint of wistfulness in his gestures – Rin could have easily imagined all of it, but a tiny voice at the back of his mind insisted he wasn't just being paranoid. For the life of him, though, Rin couldn't pinpoint why; Haruka didn't appear upset, annoyed, or even particularly bothered, yet still...

_this..._

_isn't your way of telling me to pull back,_

_...is it?_

(It made no difference if Rin also acknowledged the possible irrationality of that thought, because the second it was out he could no longer take it back; and it sent a slow, infectious terror wading through his veins, a sudden knot winding around his stomach.)

God, he should have _known_.

How naïve did he have to be, to think any of this could possibly sustain itself for a day longer? It had never been just his self-denial that had been heading for a meltdown since day one; how had Rin possibly overlooked the fact that Haruka wasn't naturally built for something like this either?

_...how much have I been demanding of you,_

_forcing you to become a person you could never be for anyone?_

Haruka had probably been... trying his best all along, to keep up with Rin's neediness, to accommodate all the ways in which Rin couldn't settle for a friendship of convenience; but while Haruka's confessions of friendship had never struck him as anything other than painfully genuine, in the end Haruka would also never be able to force himself into further emotional intimacy any more than Rin could help the paralyzing need for validation, and if you combined the two together...

Rin swallowed, but the weight in his throat wouldn't go down.

Why... did the sudden realization of all of this leave him so perturbed? Hadn't the entire purpose of tonight been to make some sense of what he may or may not have wanted out of Haruka – and what Haruka may or may not have wanted out of him in return?

_it's.... okay_

_it has to be okay_

_if this is the extent of what you can give me, then I'll... be happy, knowing you wanted to give anything at all_

(He knew this, knew this, _knew this_ ; he felt like beating it into his head with a brick strapped to an anvil, writing it across his arm until not a patch of empty skin remained; because it made him feel so _ashamed_ , somehow, to have finally discovered an answer to all these complicated feelings trashing him in the troughs, and still understand that––)

_it's_

_not enough_

Somewhere on the TV, a cacophony began to unfurl; people screamed and zombie-fied shipmates were burned, androids went haywire and a distraught woman clung her insides together with what looked like a giant stapler gun; and all Rin could think of was the silent screaming somewhere at the back of his mind, where the hysterical laughter finally grew quiet, having run out of things to berate.

But then,

just as Rin was beginning to slip into that familiar numbness of allowing his insecurities to wash over him like a comforting, protective shield,

something... happened.

Beneath the layers of Makoto's whimpers, amidst Nagisa's triumphant cries of _when I grow up I'm gonna be peach melba!_ and Rei's almost tender way of amending, _Nagisa-kun, his name is Idris Elba_ , Haruka suddenly shifted.

Until now he had been sitting patiently by the foot of Rei's bed; Rei and Nagisa had joined him on the floor while Makoto had slowly backed into the furthest corner of the bed, as if seeking solace in Rei's walls. For almost an hour and a half, Haruka hadn't moved a single muscle in his body, either completely enamored by the film (unlikely) or lost in a proverbial ocean (as always); yet in that single moment his shoulders shifted.

(And when they did, Rin couldn't help but watch in stupefied fascination as Haruka's entire upper body slowly turned; never once taking his eyes off the screen, he lightly leaned back until the side of his head touched Rin's knee, then stayed there.)

How long they sat like that, well, it was hard to say; for all Rin knew it could have been seconds, minutes, an entire aeon that passed in the weight of Haruka's head against his leg. If any traces of his former terror still remained in Rin's body, it was rapidly being consumed by an overwhelming feeling of another kind; a hysterical nerve kept trying to make him burst into uncontrollable laughter for the sheer absurdity of the moment.

To calm himself down, Rin tried to fix his gaze on the same spot on Haruka's shoulder he had stared at before; in doing so, however, his eyes drew to the exposed skin on Haruka's neck between the base of his hairline and the collar of his shirt.

Regardless of whether it was because Rin's entire defense system had short-circuited in the past few minutes, or because he had simply lost his mind for good, his hand still reached out on its own anyway.

Where Rin's fingertips landed on the nape of his neck, Haruka's shoulders gave a light start, but did not pull away; instead, in a matter of seconds, Rin realized Haruka was _leaning_ into his touch, something that sent a violent shiver down his spine.

Was it on purpose? Was it on instinct? Looking back, Rin would find it difficult to answer such questions either, because there was a natural ease in the way he put more pressure into his fingertips, then stirred them in a circular pattern, as though absent-mindedly massaging Haruka's neck.

If any of the space crew ever made it off the planet alive or not, Rin would probably never know; if humanity was rescued or obliterated into extinction, he didn't give a damn. Because it wasn't his fault all coherent thought evaporated from his mind around the time a tiny sound escaped Haruka's lips, reverberating in the muscles underneath Rin's hand.

(In the absence of thought, all Rin could rely on was feeling; because his mind may have been a maelstrom of nerves and astonishment, but beneath that primary shock he suddenly found himself almost frightfully calm; and when Haruka eventually dozed off, evident in the gentle nod of his head, only one thought vacated Rin's mind.)

_this_

_feels right_

 

 

 

If the rest of them ever noticed this tiny little shift in the universe taking place, they never commented on it. Haruka slept through most of the following movie while Rin patiently kept his head from lolling over, a welcome distraction from the urge to run his fingers through Haruka's hair. (He wasn't sure why, but something in Rin was pretty confident that should he go down that route, he wouldn't be able to pull back without disturbing Haruka in the process.)

Although the next film was a lighthearted comedy about a former Japanese punk rock band and the young record label executive who tried to bring them back into limelight, the look on Makoto's face remained troubled. It probably came as a surprise to no-one that once the clock hit 11 pm, he was awfully reluctant to go home.

"Can I stay over?" he asked Rei, the look on his face putting even the most adorable little puppies to shame, "I'm going to have nightmares, I know it, and I'm too old to wake my parents or siblings up to ask if I can sleep in the same bed."

"Well you'we not hleeping in Wei-han'h bed eithew," Nagisa quipped, mouth full of their remaining potato chips, then swallowed, "'Cos I'm gonna stay over and there's a comfortable groove on the left side with my name on it."

Rei didn't so much as blink at Nagisa's comment. "It's alright, Makoto-senpai. I have a spare futon you can use, and there should be space enough for one if we put the table aside." He quickly glanced over his shoulder with genuine apology. "Sorry, Haruka-senpai, Rin-san."

"As upset as I am over having to miss this little..." Rin twirled his hand in the air lightly, "Sleep-over thing or whatever, I'm sure I'll live without having to witness Nagisa shadow boxing in his sleep."

"That only happened once! Nobody was hurt! ...Except maybe the cat."

"...Anyway, Rin-san, you'll probably have to take the train back to Iwatobi, then change lines for one that goes to Samezuka. It's pretty late, are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Should I particularly worry about being eaten by gigantic aliens on my way home?"

"I'd personally be more concerned about impregnation."

"...Nagisa, if I give you a curry bun, will you promise not to talk to me for the rest of the night?"

"Ooh, curry bun! Rinrin, you didn't tell us you had some! So mean!"

In spite of the casual banter, Rin paid notice to how Haruka remained silent during this exchange. He hadn't said much, even after he awoke; when Haruka had pushed himself upright, the sudden absence of his warmth made Rin painfully aware of how easily he had become used to it.

Still, the aura around Haruka had... changed, like an invisible field dissolving into thin air; it made it easier for Rin to beckon at Haruka with a nod of his head and expect no rejection, as the two of them bid farewell to the rest of their friends and headed out into the night.

On the train, Rin was actually grateful for Haruka's silence. In the half-empty car, he sat there listening to the tracks clattering in tune to the beating of his heart. After all, he had never finished what he had set out to do tonight; whatever answers Rin thought he had discovered, Haruka had also quickly rendered them nothing short of obsolete. Just like their endless messages, just like always – Haruka had failed to catch his cues, coming up with his own instead.

Rin stole a glance at Haruka; the darkness had sketched his reflection on the window down to the last outline. The expression on his face was calm, unreadable as always, yet strangely... thoughtful at the same time; as if Haruka was mulling something over in his head, just as much as Rin was trying to make sense of everything that had taken place.

Of course he knew the implications to each thought, each tentative heartbeat that missed its place; Rin wasn't _that_ willfully naïve. The question had never been whether he felt something for Haruka –he felt a whole damn lot of things, from anger to frustration to excitement to respect– but... he had always avoided treading into the territory of affection, because Rin wasn't sure if he would ever survive out of that mess with his heart and mind intact.

_Fondness? Attachment? Adoration? Infatuation?_

No, Rin had always felt so _much_ for Haruka, in every way conceivable; this was no reason for him to act on it, to do anything that might possibly ruin everything they had worked so hard to build in the first place. How could he say for sure if he wasn't just mistaking one feeling for another, anyway – how were you meant to stop yourself from confusing gratitude with yearning, amity with devotion, friendship with...

(It was so much easier not thinking about any of this, which was why for the better part of the past five years Rin... hadn't. But if anything, tonight had also proved that he really could not rely on logic forever, any more than he could rely on self-deception; one way or the other, something desperate and wounded within him would take hold, rendering Rin incapable of disguising the disappointment he had felt at the thought of never progressing past the point the two of them existed in right now.)

But what _was_ that point, and what was the point that lay _after_ it?

He... he honestly couldn't say.

All he knew... was that in the minutes he had sat there in the glow of the TV, anchored to Haruka's warmth by the tips of his fingers while Haruka's shoulders rose and descend peacefully, all of that had felt _right_ in a way Rin could neither argue with nor dispute; simply witnessing Haruka's repose, knowing he was partially involved, had brought such tranquility to Rin's own turbulent mind that he had been able to forget anything else in the world existed at all.

He... wished it could have been that easy, all the time, just throwing caution in the wind and doing whatever he thought was right; but how could you ever dedicate yourself to reckless abandon when you had _no idea_ what you felt, and if the actions you might take in their place only ever amounted to a colossal mistake?

The jingle of their stop roused Rin from his thoughts, as Haruka gently nudged him with his knee. "We're here."

Outside, the air felt much chillier after a short, air-conditioned train ride. Preparing for the prospect of waiting another ten to fifteen minutes for the train to Samezuka, Rin tugged at the sleeves of his loose cardigan; he gave himself a stern reminder that every once in a while he might want to make sacrifices to practicality, as there were no buttons on the front to actually fasten.

Of course, he would later use this moment to conveniently blame Haruka's following words on, rather than entertain the idea that he had been contemplating it all along (because the sheer notion that Haruka might have spent more time planning it was... all sorts of bewildering, to be perfectly honest), as Haruka glanced up at him and said:

"You could always just stay the night at my house."

Of course, Rin didn't know what he was supposed to blame his own response on –the wind, the starry sky, the depthless sincerity in Haruka's eyes, aliens– because it was out before he could regret it, stemming from a place deep within him that acknowledged no fear or regret.

"Yeah, alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.
> 
> (Also, I figured I could bump the secondary ships to implied Gou/Makoto and implied Nagisa/Rei, since those are... probably gonna be a thing from here on out. Probably nothing prevalent enough to turn you off if you're not a fan of those specific ships, but they might function as catalysts for the narrative in various ways, so just a heads up if for some reason that really rustles your jimmies.)
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: ....Well, who knows?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this at the beginning of every chapter, but I have amazing and wonderful readers and I honestly have no idea where this story would be without you. Whenever I get comments and analysis on the state of the characters and their motivations, I keep having new ideas to include, which I feel has also made this story better from the original drafts. This has made posting work in progress more rewarding than I could have imagined, and hope that you guys care enough about the story to stick with me in the future too.
> 
> Anyway, here's Haruka, who almost drove me nuts (again) this time, but I hope you enjoy. (My regular beta didn't have the chance to read through this beforehand for typos, so as usual, if I'll try to fix any potential ones as quickly as I can.)

At quarter to midnight, the stars had come out.

Walking back home from the train station, Haruka couldn't help but pay notice to the tiniest details of the night. Long beams of streetlights, the electric glow of drink vending machines, tiny stones crunching underneath his sneakers on the pavement; he could almost sense a subtle current resounding somewhere in the air.

It had been a while since he had been out this late. There was something strangely captivating about the world that spread forth around them, reminding Haruka of the morning he and Rin had walked together on this exact path in reverse; the scene could have struck Haruka as nothing short of a déjà vu, but he also couldn't shake off the feeling that something was trying to ground him to this moment.

It felt like... so long ago, now.

(In less than a month they had rewound years' worth of lost opportunities, learned to reach out to one another without the pretense of disdain; and while they may not have known how to suture these wounds –inflicted by time, inflicted by pride– with anything more than light, flimsy stitches yet, Haruka also did not feel like parts of him were... bleeding, anymore, into a nameless past that may or may not have ever taken place.)

There was still a light in the window at the Tachibanas'. Someone must have been awake, perhaps waiting for Makoto to return home. Haruka could almost imagine Mrs Tachibana sitting by the kitchen table, going through her magazines with Ran or Ren sleeping on her lap; it was how they had found her, sometimes, when a special occasion had sent Haruka and Makoto home at a late hour.

He wished he wouldn't have thought of this right now, the tender smile that always lit up on Mrs Tachibana's face and the melancholy that settled in Haruka's heart afterwards; because he couldn't pretend like they did not coincide with the melancholy that swirled in his chest now, a foreboding storm that had loomed in the distance since the morning.

It had begun with a phone call.

(The brief pause where the connection wavered, the tiny gasp where his mother drew in her breath; it used to not mean anything, it shouldn't have meant anything, but between the 1020 and 1030 hours Haruka stood staring at the tiny bird fluttering about on his porch, he understood something had changed.)

_Your father and I hope you are well. I'm sorry we couldn't visit for your birthday, but work has been busy – your father works twelve hour shifts at his company, I'm sure you understand. Maybe you could visit us in Tokyo before the end of your Summer break? Please send our regards to the Tachibanas, and thank them for having looked after you in our absence._

It wasn't as though there had been anything particularly noteworthy about his mother's call. Haruka had heard those exact words in various combinations a thousand times before. Sometimes they were hardly more than rhetoric, sometimes he could hear genuine longing in her tone; it mattered to him little either way.

So how could he have seen it coming, when a sudden flash of violent irritation pulled him by the spine at the mere sound of her voice?

 _No_.

Such a simple word, so familiar to him in all aspects of life. Yet in that moment it had made his hand tremble; as Haruka gripped the phone tighter, throat growing dry, a furious defiance had surged uncontrollably from a place he could not recognize.

 _No, I_ don't _understand._

 _No, I_ don't _want to come to Tokyo._

 _And no, I_ won't _thank them, because there's nothing I can possibly say with words alone to make up for everything they have done for me – which you would_ know _, if you had wasted that thought even a second of your time._

The abrupt vitriol left him nearly speechless; it possessed each nerve on his skin, like a sudden electric shock. Although Haruka managed to hold his tongue long enough to end the call with superfluous nothings, the astonishment stayed with him; he couldn't remember the last time he had felt such anger towards his mother, lashing out in a desperate impulse.

For hours, he could not focus on anything but that unsettling feeling. It descended into his bones, snaked around his lungs, drained all energy out of his body.

_something's_

_not right_

So Haruka had tried to root out his unease; run possible explanations through his head, purge his mind of this needless, troublesome spore. Still, replaying the conversation over and over yielded no results; nothing in his mother's delivery struck Haruka as amiss. After all, there had always been an almost comfortable predictability to their routine: the click of the receiver, a split second void before a deafening, disconnected tone on the other end of the line – these were the sounds tattooed into Haruka's memory in the years he'd spent living with his grandmother, until eventually filling the corners of this worn down-house with solitude.

But if it wasn't his mother who had caused the sudden discrepancy, like someone tearing a rift into Haruka's psyche, then only one logical conclusion remained.

(The one who had changed, was...)

The sound of wind chimes had washed over him then, yanking Haruka out of his thoughts with a visible start. It took him minutes to realize they had originated from his phone.

_stoppin by @ famima before rei's. come w/ me?_

A few words, a couple of misspellings, some abused punctuation – it took so little to twist away at Haruka, for a helpless frustration to light up amidst his confusion. The words of Rin's message danced tauntingly around the memory of his mother's call, tugging at the edges of something sore; they made Haruka feel as though a physical force was trying to push through his body, held at bay by the vigor of habit alone.

It was in that moment Haruka had realized he felt... scared.

What if he simply never responded? Turned off his phone, pretended he was asleep? The thought... did cross his mind. But somehow Haruka couldn't also _not_ go; it could have taken him by surprise how fiercely his subconscious rejected the idea of declining Rin's request, if Haruka also hadn't partially already viewed it as inevitable.

(Which, all things considered, was another mirthless reminder that something within Haruka had irretrievably changed; once upon a time he wouldn't have bat an eye at simply turning down the entire movie night, but now... things weren't that simple, nor his emotions as easily subdued.)

He had spent the next couple of hours in the bathtub, trying to will the uneasiness down. Maybe it was simply a question of weathering an unexpected anxiety, bound to dissolve on its own. Because Haruka _did_ also feel slightly better once he reached the convenience store and caught sight of Rin's silhouette; red hair pulled back by a thin hairband, fingers fidgeting on the sleeve of his cardigan while pretending to stare at his phone – Rin had looked like something out of a magazine spread for teenage girls, which inadvertently tugged on the side of his mouth.

(Still, a familiar, hesitant fear had seeped into Haruka's veins the second Rin lifted his head, held his gaze and returned his smile.)

"Hold on, I'll turn on the light."

Haruka wasn't sure why he said this now, as the two of them entered the house. His spartan way of living was a common punch line; there was absolutely nothing for Rin to stub his toe on, no scattered items or shoes to stumble over. Still, the words left his mouth before he could stop them; the memory of Rin's grin from before had instinctively made Haruka want to break the silence with _something_.

This must have been unusual enough to catch Rin's attention, since Haruka suddenly felt a hand on his sleeve.

"H, hey. Haru."

Rin paused for a second, then swallowed. There was renewed conviction in Rin's voice, though, as he pushed through whatever had first held him back.

"...Are... are you alright?"

Haruka's gesture halted mid-air. The small lamp he had flicked on wavered with a feeble glow, bathing the hallway in a half-light; in those seconds it felt to Haruka like a sardonic representation of the spirit he was running on.

Small wonder Rin could tell.

 _Are you alright, Haruka? How do you feel, Haruka? Do you want to talk about it, Haruka?_ – for as long as he could remember, he had always hated such questions; they came in pairs, they came accompanied by wrinkled, downcast mouths, they came in a gauze of feigned concern. He couldn't understand why any of this had ever mattered; all his life Haruka had relied on his emotions at face value, and so when he had felt nothing, he had said nothing at all.

Still, the kneejerk reaction of telling Rin to mind his own business never came. It was but one more paradox on a list of countless smaller ones, beginning with the anger he had felt towards his mother; out of all people, it was Rin who should have triggered his instinctive defiance, yet Haruka now found himself unable to counter him with anything other than sadness.

"I don't know," Haruka said, softly, and only then realized that he meant every word.

Even in the dim light, he could see Rin hesitate. Before long, though, the hold on Haruka's sleeve grew tighter, sending a tiny jolt through Haruka's body.

"Come on. I'll–– I'll make you something. Tea. Just–– come with me, Haru. Okay?"

Had Haruka had any fight left in his body, he still wouldn't have dreamed of resisting. Rin clumsily pulled him towards the dining room, where he seated Haruka with a single push of his hand; swearing under his breath, Rin fumbled briefly for the lights before reaching for the stove. "You've got a kettle somewhere here, right?"

"...Over there, on the left."

There was something so undeniably endearing about Rin fussing over tea that the moment should have been immortalized in a photo. Still, Haruka couldn't escape the thin layer of bittersweet nostalgia this brief chance at peace came enveloped in: the clatter of pans as Rin shifted through utensils, the sound of running water as he filled the kettle, the creaking of each kitchen cupboard where he hunted down tea – they were sounds of life, sounds of home, tugging away at Haruka's heart with the exact sharpness he had tried all evening to avoid.

Part of Haruka probably hated Rin for this, with all the vitriol of a worn-out soul.

(Because he couldn't help noticing each tentative look Rin cast over his shoulder, as if to confirm Haruka was still there; each awkward gesture, the frown of concentration on Rin's brow, all of it served to underline how much thought Rin was putting into making him a simple cup of tea. Yet what it roused in Haruka was a primal kind of panic, fueled by his former inability to control his emotions: something about all of this was wrong, Rin shouldn't have been here, because the rift in Haruka's emotions might only grow larger by the second and he––)

Haruka felt Rin's knee touching his, and it made all of his thoughts disintegrate. Rin wobbled briefly with a small tray in his hands, a concentrated grimace soon paving way for triumph as the tray successfully landed on the table.

"You know, I haven't done something like this in years, so it might be terrible. I–– I bet it's never like this with Makoto, huh."

A light chuckle disguised both the nervousness and slight hint of self-deprecation in Rin's voice, and all at once the strange, choking feeling at the base of Haruka's throat grew worse.

 _You idiot,_ Haruka wanted to scream on a sudden, heated impulse. No, it _wasn't_ like this with Makoto, it never had been, it never would – Makoto and his family had always looked after Haruka as one of their own, but it wasn't their care and comfort Haruka had ever consciously sought. No, Haruka's friendship with Makoto was built on trust and loyalty, the unspoken vow that there would always be parts of him that Makoto could not fully comprehend; and while deep down Haruka was endlessly grateful for all the years Makoto had patiently allowed him to define these boundaries of his personal space, none of it had prepared him for _this_ – how torn it would make Haruka feel to understand just how much witnessing Rin's affection... hurt.

He bit down on his lip, suddenly ashamed of the bursts of volatility that swirled inside him.

...Why was it so difficult to accept Rin's compassion, anyway? He... he should have felt _happy,_ he should have felt relieved, yet Haruka could virtually feel parts of himself still clinging to that little island of solitude, begging Rin to leave him alone. None of it made any sense; gone were the days Haruka felt agitated over his friends' loyalty as though on instinct, gone were the days he could not admit wanting Rin back in his life, yet it still frightened him now to realize exactly how much Rin must have cared in each daily message, every wry smile, the casual wave of his hand.

All his other friends cared too. So why was it only ever Rin whose devotion _mattered_ to the point of making Haruka's psyche unravel at the seams?

 _Because it's_ you _who invited that devotion in_

...Ah, yes.

Rin hadn't walked through that door merely because he had been given permission; the reason he was sitting next to Haruka in the first place was because Haruka had personally asked him over. There was no point in pretending as though it had been a chance decision, either; Haruka knew he had been thinking it over all night, subconsciously clinging to the chance that although he hadn't been able do anything to shake off this uneasiness, then maybe... Rin could.

(Because Haruka still remembered that moment several hours into the past, when he had found himself exhausted by everything and nothing all at once; in the wake of Nagisa's laughter and Rei's incessant complaints there had been a void of whichever voice should have belonged to Rin, making Haruka feel... empty, too, in a way that his general apathy could not reason away. It had been this brief concession into instinct that told him to lean back against Rin, to lay down his head and close his eyes; and when sleep finally claimed Haruka through the warmth and soundness of Rin's fingers on his skin, he had dreamt of mornings in December.)

Understanding this did not make breathing any easier.

(He thought of disconnected phone calls, a dead weight on the line; he thought of chimes at the level crossing, drowned out by time)

_because it's those who grant happiness who can also take it away_

_and if it's you who hopes he'd be here, it'll be you who'll wish he had stayed_

His eyes hurt, his head hurt, his heart hurt.

_I..._

"Oi, Haru."

Rin waved a hand in his face; his expression wasn't annoyed, rather than pensive. "You know I didn't go through all the trouble of navigating your pantry just so I could drink this alone."

Of course, a hundred things could have explained what ultimately cut that tiny, thin wire in Haruka's head at that exact point in time; coincidence, lack of sleep, some higher power hell-bent on reminding Haruka of his humanity. None of it mattered, though, since the run-on sentence came cascading out before Haruka could stop himself either way.

"Mother called today she says I could visit before Summer break ends she is very sorry they couldn't come see me before."

Rin's shoulders drew back and he fell silent, averting his gaze.

Haruka's sudden burst probably should have sounded senseless and inconsequential. Maybe, if he had been with anyone else in the world, they would have sat there waiting for some kind of follow-up, or an explanation to put those words into context at all.

But Rin also wasn't... just anyone;

_(never had been, never would be)_

and so, when he finally looked up at Haruka and let out a small breath, the eyes he glanced at Haruka with were full honest, almost astounded comprehension.

"...Shit, Haru," Rin spoke, searching for the right words without even attempting to conceal the slow dread that seeped into his voice, "...How long _have_ you been living here on your own, anyway..?"

...Looking back, Haruka remembered blinking.

He blinked again, and then again, and then twice more; still, his eyes kept clouding over, although he couldn't understand why. The look on Rin's face flashed from concerned to panicked to scared to concerned again, yet Haruka had no time to process any of those implications before his senses registered the clatter of the table, a single tea cup spilling over, and the sudden warmth of Rin's body as he buried Haruka's face in his chest.

(He felt Rin's fingers latch in the familiar groove at the nape of his neck, as though holding Haruka still with enough conviction to fight the whole world; it left Haruka genuinely confused, for the six seconds it took for him to realize the fabric of Rin's shirt was slowly growing damp underneath his cheeks.)

_I'm.....?_

"Haru," he heard Rin repeat his name, muffled as he spoke into Haruka's hair, "You're... Shit, I'm so fucking _sorry_ , alright? I––" he went on, drawing in a short, staccato breath which made his syllables burst out uncontrollably, "I know it's not the same as–– I know it doesn't fix anything, but–– I'm... here, you know that right? We're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere."

It didn't occur to Haruka until long later that Rin had never asked him to stop crying, no more than he told Haruka that everything would be fine; maybe it never occurred to Rin himself that everything wouldn't have been alright, or that it _wasn't_ okay for Haruka to cry; still, Haruka supposed he wouldn't have remembered much of the things Rin said anyway, prior or after to the actual words he had subconsciously been hoping to hear:

_(I'm not going anywhere_

_not this time)_

and while it would take more than a midnight in August to resolve all the convoluted feelings of abandonment nestled within Haruka, or the years of habitual disappointment and rejection he had unknowingly carried with him to this day, he... could also feel the weight in his limbs slowly beginning to come loose with each, unintentional tear.

Because there was a solace in the certainty of Rin's voice, the hidden absolution in his words, the confession of loyalty in his touch; and as afraid as Haruka had been to confront any of it, for all the ways it reminded him of everything he had never been at liberty to sincerely believe in, he... also did not know if he could willingly blind himself to any of these things, now that he _knew_.

All of it made it easier to breathe, eventually, once Haruka blinked away the last of his fatigue and pulled back to look at Rin head on.

"...Thank you," he said, and no trace of embarrassment or regret stained his voice.

However, holding Rin's gaze so brazenly, Haruka could suddenly sense Rin's hesitation. Rin's hand had fallen to rest on his, but now tensed as though burnt by Haruka's skin. Of course Haruka recognized it: the inevitable self-conscious terror that always drew Rin in in the aftermath of emotional intimacy.

It settled around Rin's eyes, made his shoulders lurch forward, as though he was shielding himself from an assault; Haruka couldn't exactly fault him for it, but he had also never been able to truly understand what made Rin so uneasy when it came to _him_.

He knew Rin cared about him. He was pretty sure Rin knew that, too. Back then he had been mistaken about Rin being upset over hypothetical flirting, and they had clearly grown closer since that day. So if all of this was what Rin wanted as well, why... why did he still keep pulling away?

That thought, however, slithered into Haruka's mind with a new, sharp aftertaste.

 _...but have you ever actually asked him what_ this _is;_

_any more than you have asked that of yourself?_

Haruka opened his mouth, a swift urgency replacing his former anxiety. "Rin––"

He couldn't tell why it felt like he was running out of seconds, to seize this moment before it slipped through his fingers; he had been here before, so close to grasping out at that _something_ that still held Rin out of his reach. Yet before Haruka could speak another word, Rin let out a nervous laugh and balanced his hands on Haruka's shoulders, as if to keep him at bay.

"D, don't worry about it," Rin spoke, forcing a cheerfulness into his voice that sounded awfully strained; the contrast between this Rin and the Rin from mere heartbeats ago was like a terrible caricature, and it pained Haruka to watch. "I'm... just returning a favour, right?"

Haruka swallowed. His mind was being bombarded by thousands of tiny wind chimes, oscillating wildly in a gale of disarray; they kept plunging something delicate within him up and down like a faulty rollercoaster, which made Rin's sudden shift into feigned aloofness twice as difficult to stomach.

_I..._

_I won't let you run from me again,_

_Rin_

Somewhere in his lap, Haruka's hands tightened into fists.

"No, I mean––"

(Didn't Rin _realize_ how difficult it was, to choke out these words at all? How did they always end up in this exact same situation, over and over? Why did Rin have to be so _stupid_ – hadn't he still figured out that Haruka––)

"–– _Why_?"

Another silence.

But as irritated as Haruka was with Rin's obtuseness, he had to commend Rin's ability to pick up on unspoken implications; there was no need to elaborate on that sentence, nor the tension in Haruka's voice, as Rin came to an almost surrendered halt.

A hint of something pained flickered on his face. The air hung heavy, and for a moment Haruka could have sworn Rin hesitated on the verge of saying something different; or perhaps it was merely Haruka's wishful imagination at play, because once Rin opened his mouth, his tone was soft and sincere.

"Because... that's what friends do, right?"

Haruka stared back at him.

_....oh_

In the recesses of his mind, the chimes gradually ceased to ring.

He remained still, long enough to listen to them dying down. Haruka could sense his thoughts withdrawing one by one, the sudden void of realization overwhelming his senses; maybe it was an act of self defense to hold onto the feeble remnants of denial, because once the emotions flooded in, Haruka instinctively knew he would have nothing to save him from going overboard with the waves.

_that's... right_

_you only ever wanted to be_

_my friend,_

_didn't_

_you_

The crashing ocean kept growing in his ears by the second, until the bellowing finally silenced everything in its wake; and it was in that desperate fragment of forever that Haruka finally knew what he had been waiting for Rin to say.

(All the things he could have said, should have said, yet did not;

and all the things that he never would, now,

because there wouldn't come a chance like this again, to let Rin _know_ , that friendship alone, well)

_it's_

_not enough_

 

 

 

"Should I get myself a spare futon? You do have those somewhere, don't you? ...Oi, Haru."

It took Haruka four seconds and a light shove to the shoulder to register Rin's voice. When he glanced up, it occurred to him that he was standing in his room; how he had materialized there, Haruka did not have the faintest idea. Rin, on the other hand, looked far less surprised at his sudden ability of teleportation; his right hand hovered by the futon closet as though requesting permission to open, but Haruka could only gape at him in response.

"There's... I... yes," Haruka eventually conjured into words. The sentence was clearly too dadaistic in form to sate Rin's curiosity, because he slowly withdrew his hand and turned to Haruka. The expression on Rin's face was still unreadable, yet framed in honest concern; when he spoke, his tone was mildly alarmed.

"Haru, you... are you sure it's alright for you to sleep alone tonight?"

Haruka blinked.

Once he failed to show any signs of recognition, Rin's face flushed on reflex. Averting his eyes, Rin shoved his hands into his pockets and spent a moment on what appeared to be an internal pep talk; somehow, the familiarity of that furious glow on Rin's cheeks felt to Haruka like an island amidst the open, aimless sea.

"I mean. Just saying, you still... seem pretty out of it. And when I was a kid, we–– I mean, Gou and me, whenever she was upset–– Ah, shit, listen." Rin cleared his throat. "You remember what Makoto said after the film, right? About being too scared to sleep alone?"

Haruka gave him an instinctive nod, but did not understand. He didn't feel upset; he didn't feel scared. (He didn't feel anything at all.)

Rin sighed, a loud and exasperated sound that came from somewhere between embarrassment and frustration. In three strides he had crossed the room, and Haruka watched in slow motion how Rin grabbed his arm. There was nothing graceful about the way Rin knocked him flat on his back on the bed, as though purposefully manhandling Haruka to get his point across.

"You're going to sleep. And I'm going to sleep with you. Next to you. You–– you know what I mean." A pink hue was making its way up Rin's neck, but he forced it down with the strength of his conviction. "Because I have a feeling you're gonna start having nightmares or some other weird shit and I don't want to be dead tired in the morning, it's already one a.m."

"But we don't have practice on Sunday," was all Haruka could think of in response; it triggered in Rin a groan, then a trail of soft thuds as Rin circled the walls for a light-switch. A flick and a click later somber moonlight filled the room, flooding in through the single window next to Haruka's bed.

A light rustle followed the weight of Rin's hands as he leaned against the mattress. At first he seemed to hesitate, then demonstrated his supposed lack of self-consciousness by unceremoniously shoving Haruka's legs towards the wall.

Stretching out next to him, Rin's vigor almost landed an elbow in Haruka's face. "Ugh, I feel sorry for whoever you might ever share your bed with for real, there's barely enough space here for you and an Iwatobi-chan keychain."

(The second Rin spoke those words aloud, though, he fell into an abrupt silence. Haruka registered this only half-heartedly; he was too busy adjusting his eyes to the half-darkness, the particles of dust floating in the air, the static of something long forgotten in his ears.)

Likewise, it was only with mild regard that Haruka perceived this whole exchange. Once upon a time he may have intuitively held his breath at the mere thought of Rin reclining by his side, but everything here... felt like someone else's reality, someone else's dream, someone else's room and someone else's life; lying there in the darkness, fully clothed with no bedding in the sweltering night of Summer, the scene appeared to Haruka like some kind of alien interpretation of human slumber.

(He thought of Nagisa's film, and kind of wanted to laugh; but Nagisa's film also made him think of how his head had felt resting against Rin's leg, and Haruka kind of wanted to cease to exist.)

As if sensing Haruka's impassiveness, Rin shifted. His back ended up resting against Haruka's arm; without moving an inch, Haruka could feel the taut muscles along Rin's spine, disclosing the tension in his body. As much as Rin had put up a brash front, his nervousness was still almost palpable enough for Haruka to hear crackling in the air.

"...Goodnight, Haru."

Rin's voice sounded oddly... hoarse, like a choked sigh, before it succumbed to the silence of the room. Or maybe Haruka simply imagined it all, the way he seemed to have imagined so many other things about his life in the recent days. There had to be some truth to Rin's former snipe about Haruka coming off as a five-year-old when it came to relationships; in this moment Haruka certainly felt blind and naïve beyond recognition.

(How stupid did he have to _be_ , to think Rin would be fine with any of this, just because Haruka so desperately tried to chain him into his life? Rin had already given him so much, never demanding anything in return; what had Haruka _thought_ could ever happen, should he selfishly try to push for more?)

Somewhere outside the window Haruka could hear chicadas, a faint gust of wind joining them in nature's lullaby. He had lied in this bed on hundreds of nights, yet never noticed how heavily they resounded in his chest; it felt like they kept pulsating in his bones, streaming through the open wounds torn by tonight's disappointment. Familiar dullness should have claimed him by now; on most accounts, it had already numbed his senses, yet something raw and aching still remained lodged at the very core of Haruka's body.

(Maybe it always would, one way or the other, when it came to Rin.)

It... could have hurt to realize this. It probably would have hurt to realize this. But Haruka had always known from experience that nothing continued to hurt forever – that one day, there would also inevitably be nothing left in him to break; and maybe then, all that he would feel again were the familiar wisps of apathy, and a lifetime of regret.

_I've...._

_changed so much,_

_haven't I...?_

He swallowed, something shifting in his chest as he did.

_no_

_you've been... changing me_

_you've been changing me, and you don't even know_

"Ah... Haru, you're still awake, aren't you?"

Haruka didn't imagine the hoarseness in Rin's voice this time, any more than he imagined the inherent self-blame lacing each word. Again, the mattress rustled as Rin pushed himself upright, leaning a hand on his forehead. "...I'm not doing this right, am I."

Haruka could have asked Rin what he meant, but he should have known by now that he rarely had the time or the actual need. There was often a split second window where Rin seemed to overcome his doubts, violently pushing through the insecurity that stalled his hand; still, as the shadows moved in tune with Rin's outline, Haruka forgot to let out his breath.

Twice now tonight he had found himself pulled into a firm, resolute embrace; twice now he had felt his figure nestled against Rin's own. It did so with that same, unexpected softness Haruka had already treasured away in his memory, as much as it also reminded him of that exact, familiar warmth of Rin's touch; yet it was his hair Rin's fingers laced in this time, Haruka's face pressing into the groove of his neck, and when Rin spoke no apologies came.

Instead, Rin rested his chin against the top of Haruka's head, a wistful smile seeping into his voice.

"...Mom used to tell me and Gou that restlessness is like this box locked away inside of you, but that we could always count on her to have a key. She also said if you filled that box with happier things, there'd be no room left for whatever worry was keeping us up at night. She... usually spent hours telling us stories, so by the time we fell asleep we didn't even remember what had originally bothered us in the first place."

He paused, then went on. "I mean, I... I guess when we grow older the only person who has that key is you, and maybe the things that trouble you aren't something others can ever actually make go away, but..." Rin drew in a deep breath; Haruka could sense him trembling lightly, but the anxiety seemed to leave Rin once he swallowed. "Well. Did you ever hear that story about the were-mackerel that haunted Iwatobi many years ago?"

Haruka realized his lips pulled into a smile against Rin's collarbone. He softly shook his head, which came out as a nuzzle. "....No, I didn't."

Rin's hold on him instinctively tightened; as he carried on, though, he sounded far more relaxed. "Okay, so, there was once this guy who was like... super into all things mackerel. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he only ever ate mackerel. Had a huge tank of fish filled with nothing but mackerel. So one day he thinks to himself, how can I have even more mackerel in my life? And he decides to become one.

"Now completely on accident he finds this book in the library, called human to animal transfusion. I know I know, that shit didn't go down well in Fullmetal Alchemist, but this story happened way before that ever came out on TV, so he couldn't have known. Anyway, the instructions tell him to sacrifice five tons of mackerel in the moonlight on the last day of June, perform a chant, and he will turn into a mackerel too.

"So he goes and hauls up all his mackerel from the tank, buys all the mackerel he can find in all of Tottori. Keeps it in a freezer until the end of June. And then, on that fateful day he goes to the beach and starts chanting the transfusion spell, except he's read some of the kanji wrong and it doesn't come out right. Can you guess what happens next?"

Haruka shook his head again, huddling ever closer to Rin as he did.

"Well obviously the ritual backfires, only halfway. The guy turns into a mackerel... but just his head. The rest of him is still all human, so now he's a human with the head of a fish sticking out from his shoulders. A were-mackerel. Screaming, he runs into the ocean and has not been seen since, except on quiet Summer nights when he can be heard howling on the beach, cursing the day he ever laid his eyes on fish. And that's why you should never live on mackerel alone. The end."

Somewhere during Rin's story, Haruka's arms had shifted up against his chest, fingers curling around Rin's shirt. Drawing in his breath, the sound from his sinuses broke the silence like a sniffle, which left Haruka as surprised as it did Rin.

He could instantly tell Rin grew rigid and alarmed against him.

"...Are you... crying?"

"No," Haruka heard himself respond, but his voice sounded strange to his ears; even his throat felt stuffy, as though within the span of roughly five minutes Haruka had come down with the fastest cold in the universe.

He almost wanted to hold on tighter by the time Rin's fingers unlaced from his hair. In the blink of an eye, though, Rin was leaning over Haruka.

He felt Rin's chest pressing against his own, trying to focus on Haruka's face in the darkness; for a moment Haruka could not see anything as Rin's entire shadow blocked the light of the moon.

"Liar," Rin finally said, but it turned barely into a whisper.

The room lapsed in silence.

Haruka's eyes widened, and subconsciously he forgot how to breathe.

(And it was then that Haruka _felt_ it;

a tiny wind chime, lighting up in his veins, somewhere amidst the wasteland of his defeat;

because he sensed Rin suddenly drawing closer, as though tugged along by a fleeting instinct – it happened so subtly that Haruka might have almost missed it, yet he caught the universe staggering out of sync in the tension of Rin's arms, the haste of Rin's heated breath on his skin, the world of renewed chances gliding in the space between their lips, and he...)

_you're..._

Rin drew in a sharp, almost violent gasp, and turned his head aside.

(Haruka had always thought hearing your heart pounding in your ears was merely a figure of speech, but he could have sworn he went momentarily deaf in those seconds that Rin struggled to steady his breath afterwards, averting Haruka's eyes in the darkness with ease.)

Before long, though, Rin plunked back down on Haruka's side with over-exaggerated casualness. The space he left between the two of them was probably meant to come off as coincidental, but struck Haruka as everything but; with their bodies now only half-aligned Haruka felt a little colder, but noted that Rin's arm still remained draped across his chest.

"Try... to get some sleep, okay," Rin muttered as he buried his face in Haruka's pillow, doing his best to conceal the high-pitched tone of his voice.

For the rest of the night, no-one spoke.

However, it did not feel like rejection; there was a light in Haruka's chest that kept him awake, long since Rin had dozed off by his side.

(Because that one single wind chime in the split moment between their hearts had revived tens, hundreds of new ones somewhere at the back of Haruka's mind; whether Rin would ever understand it or not, he had given Haruka something irreplaceable tonight – one missing puzzle piece, shaped by two truths he could not for the life of him deny.)

Truth one:

Just now, just then, he had hoped Rin would kiss him.

And truth two...

_I know you were going to_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you trust me if I tell you these kids WILL one day end up together?
> 
> That day might also come sooner than you think.
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: Rin and the art of kicking yourself in the head. Also, Australia.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI. First off, I'm super sorry that it took me well over a month to update - life got in the way, work and other writing projects got in the way, and general bashing-my-face-into-a-keyboard got in the way. In my defense, this chapter -along with the previous one- have been difficult to write for a number of reasons, and while I could tweak this one endlessly, I've also decided to be merciful to myself in order for this story to finally continue. In case you're still following this drivel, uh, hoorah! I hope the wait has been worth it, even slightly.
> 
> /edit I found 3 words that ao3 randomly ate from the fic for no apparent reason, but they've now been edited back in. I honestly hope those are the only ones.

_The sound of chimes_.

He opened his eyes.

For a moment the world stood still, in that small room on the second floor of Haruka's grandmother's house. Rin held his breath while life slowly continued to return to his drowsy limbs, as though waiting for the echo to return.

It didn't. Instead, somewhere in the distance he could hear the hum of Summer, distant chirping and the subtle sounds of this house coming alive with dawn; without lifting his watch, Rin knew it was six thirty at the very latest – the same time his internal clock roused him from his sleep every morning with beautiful precision, to allow for a punctual arrival at Iwatobi by 0740 hours.

Without moving a muscle in his entire body, he knew he had dreamt of something.

What had he dreamt of?

He couldn't remember.

No... that wasn't it.

Rin was pretty sure the entire night had become cacophony of nonsense.

(Explosions. Severed power lines. A disgruntled Rei wearing full power ranger gear, challenging Rin into a duel. A manic Nagisa, bursting out of Rei's skin like an alien c-section. Demolished retirement homes, sparks trying to catch his hair on fire, a drunken Makoto high atop a mountain – and finally Haruka, who had turned into a lizard before Rin's eyes.)

Rin may not have been one to waste two breaths on dream interpretation, but even in his sluggish daze he vowed not to watch another one of Nagisa's films for as long as he lived.

Still, cursing Nagisa's name for the sixty-seventh time this week would have to came later. As much as Rin had struggled to recall the dream from last night, when he blinked sleep from his eyes it only took him a second to realize he was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling; then another, to remember where he was at all.

Two full seconds, then.

That's how long Rin had to dwell on the blissful oblivion of imagining life as it had been only twenty-four hours ago; because the third second wasted away into an unknown forever once he felt something shift by his side.

On instinct, Rin turned his head, only to bury his face right into a flurry of dark hair.

In the half-choke half-gasp that followed, he drew in a sharp breath. As he unwittingly breathed in the scent of Haruka's hair, an inexplicable surge pulled Rin by the nerve-ends; it gripped him in an iron hold and pounded away into his consciousness like a vicious, emotional hangover, leaving him hyper-aware of every particle in the air.

Because where the digits of Haruka's fingers clutched around his waist, where Haruka's nose had pressed into the outstretched skin of his neck, Rin could _sense_ it like a current through his spine; the entirety of Haruka's body was glued to his side, knee lightly hooked over Rin's own in a roughly fifty-six degree angle – well, give or take, as Rin could only gauge Haruka's position _so_ well, between his slowly spreading hysteria and the unconscious attempts to register each millimeter of exposed skin where Haruka had also unintentionally hiked up Rin's shirt.

(A blur blur blur he was too drowsy too tired too _weak_ for this in the flickering morning light; too weak to stop the memory of last night spreading through the cracks, the words of feigned innocence now slithering in like a venomous jeer amidst sleepiness and stifled hope:

_are you alright is it okay for you to sleep that's what friends you're still are you_

_liar liar_

_l i a r)_

Rin felt his breath hitch in his lungs in a painful wheeze.

It is said that mortal peril catches most people in a state of stunned paralysis; exposed to such abrupt danger, we grow listless with disbelief and fear. Was it so strange, then, that Rin found himself wasting his life and sanity away while the noise in his ears grew louder by the minute – he knew the odds of escaping unscathed diminished with each second Haruka spent asleep, yet _how_ was he supposed to help the languor that set in his bones, when half of his nervous system was too busy fixing the damage caused by the sudden overload of stimuli?

_this..._

_you_

_ah_

(But it was then that Rin heard –felt– Haruka murmur a tiny sound in his sleep.)

As the unexpected warmth of Haruka's breath tickled Rin's neck, it triggered in him a recollection of the faint glow of TV screens, glistening on Haruka's hair; it pulled Rin into a memory of heartbeats fueled by adrenaline and the delirium of early morning hours, and all at once he couldn't say if he wanted to scream or laugh.

_you have to get out of here_

_you have to get out get OUT_

_GET O U T_

The absoluteness of that voice was enough to jinx life into his limbs. It was enough to overrule his reason with self-preservation and primal instinct, like so many times before; it came to him like second nature, rushing forth from a place somewhere so deep down that he did not possess the ability to question its intent.

(It lifted him with familiar softness, silencing warring emotions with a gauze of tranquilizing abandon; and so, when Rin felt his arm disentangling from Haruka's own, his legs sliding out from underneath Haruka's figure, for a brief stretch of time Rin could not tell if he existed in the moment at all.)

One of these days he would not flinch at the way his toes lightly touched the floor; how his back turned to shield the light, how the floor softly left out a thud as he crossed the distance to the door; yes, one of these days Rin would grow used to numbing himself to the emptiness he felt upon the abrupt loss of Haruka's warmth, and in that moment he would learn to not feel regret.

One of these––

_No._

The hand that hovered over the door handle abruptly stilled.

It caught Rin by surprise, far more than it caught him aback; the single syllable that crashed through the haze of his departure was vigorous enough to halt him in his tracks. Pushing through the impenetrable barrier of blind survival, it came to him without explanation, without apology, yet with the ease of a truth he could not disprove.

_You will not go._

It wasn't an option, Rin realized.

It was an honest, undisputable fact.

This... wasn't some romanticized version of life, after all, where his personal cowardice overruled the consequences of his actions; this wasn't some juvenile _game_ of self-pity, not... not anymore.

_words of sincere confusion, an unintentional glisten on his cheek, that something small and fragile breaking before your eyes_

(Haruka... had always hated pity, yet feigned nothing last night; in a moment of silent concession, he had allowed Rin to share in on his genuine weakness, and that... that changed _everything_.)

Two people in this room knew what it was like to be weak, after all.

(Only one knew what it was like to be a coward.)

_You understand, don't you?_

_You will not make excuses._

_You will not walk out on him._

Rin took a deep breath, and turned.

_You will not go._

With hesitant steps, he reached the side of the bed. Taking a tentative seat, he found Haruka still fast asleep. Hand laid out on the pillow next to his head, palm upwards, an air of unguarded acceptance seemed to surround Haruka like an aura of contentment. So lost to the world around him, the expression on Haruka's face reminded Rin of those moments in their childhood whenever he had caught Haruka gazing at the ocean, or staring at cherry trees not yet in bloom; and while it twisted away at his heart with something poignant, the reality that began to prickle away at his fingertips also made Rin feel... light.

_it's okay to stop running_

_isn't it?_

He couldn't say.

(He couldn't say, but he wasn't running.)

 

 

 

As he sat there taking in the silence, watching dust float in the trickles of early sunlight on Haruka's face, Rin finally understood how exhausted he felt.

The heaviness of his chest, how hard it was to keep his consciousness afloat now that the boost of adrenaline had long since passed him by – all of it made Rin want to close his eyes and fall back asleep. Yet at the same time... a strange, momentary serenity had taken hold of his frantic heart, and he did not want to miss a second of soaking in that feeling.

Maybe, it was that subdued glow of his personal peace that allowed Rin to finally think back at last night's final minutes.

Of course he knew what had filled him with paralyzing dread this morning. Of course he knew what had fueled the terror that nearly sent him climbing out of the window, just to make sure he was nowhere near a five mile radius of this house once Haruka woke up. Of course he _remembered_.

Had it not been for a last minute knee-jerk spasm pulling him aside, he––

...he would have kissed Haruka.

That much was for certain.

(Rin felt like groaning, he felt like screaming, he felt like laughing hysterically at the inevitability of that knowledge, as nonsensical and frightening as it was all at once.)

Had Haruka noticed?

Impossible.

Haruka never noticed _anything_ , yet this brought Rin no solace. It was bad enough that _he_ knew; bad enough that he was the only one here whose thoughts were lost in a complete anarchy over tiny, inconsequential details – such as the proximity of space between their lips.

It was bad enough that against his better judgment, Rin had briefly lost track of this in the dark; that for a split second in time, he had foolishly imagined that Haruka was aware, too.

(But why?)

Madness. Temporary insanity. Shit, maybe those goddamn aliens again – he was running out of excuses faster than he could backpedal for more, and the fact that he was still trying made Rin want to punch himself in the face.

...Hadn't he made a choice? Hadn't he decided that this –whatever this was– was nothing more than a byproduct of his inability to discern one kind of feeling from another? And more importantly, hadn't he _realized_ , in the hours he spent watching Haruka unravel last night, that the worst thing he could possibly do was to push any of this confusion on Haruka?

(Before yesterday, Rin would have never believed anyone who told him Haruka could literally cry in front of him for anything. For Haruka's emotions to be in such disarray – Rin would've had to have been blind not to understand that the last thing he needed was the added weight of Rin's self-centered desire to understand what was happening between the two of them at all.)

_that's... that's right_

_you don't fear the fact that he's doing this to you, are you_

_you fear the fact that your selfishness is making_ you _do this to_ him

A mirthless gloom circulated at the gates of his former tranquility. How... was he meant to deny the truth at this point? As much as he had found it possible to look Haruka straight in the eye before, to throw away the chance of admitting his bewildered emotions by clinging to the safety of indifference, none of his confessions of sheer friendship... were true.

_you want it to be true, so badly_

_but it's not, and never will be_

So he'd lied to himself. He'd lied to Haruka. And now he was stuck – forced to continue lying, for as long as he could imagine; because it didn't matter what Rin wanted, it didn't matter what he felt, since none of it was anything Haruka had ever asked or bargained for. Regardless of whether he would ever discover the true origin for that weird ache, Rin couldn't do this to Haruka, couldn't force him to play a part in this needless chaos that would just ruin their friendship in the end.

It counted for too much, it mattered too much, it–– it was _everything_ , and Rin couldn't pretend not to know.

And still...

(Part of him had _wanted_ to;

part of Rin kept whispering, even now, that it didn't matter if Haruka wasn't ready, it didn't matter if _he_ wasn't ready, because that strange fascination could easily silence reason with a single touch of Haruka's hand; last night Rin had _wanted_ to forget, wanted to ignore the gnaw of his conscience, only to listen to the unfamiliar invitation of a sensation he did not fully understand.)

_you don't even know what you want_

_yet you'd drag him into this all the same, just because you can't let him go_

He... he was truly the worst.

Rin drew in a deep breath and gently leaned forward.

Reaching out, he lifted his hand to almost touch Haruka's own; yet Rin stilled his hand, their fingertips barely coming into contact. He could feel the charge of energy between their skin, and it made his mouth curl into a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Would it be like this, from here on to an unknown forever?

Would he be stuck holding back at the last moment, for as long as he failed to undo these troublesome feelings?

(...Would it be like this, always?)

The universe never granted him an answer, though.

Something soft and guarded in his instincts tensed a fraction of a second too late, and all concept of time, place, or the world as we know it evaporated from Rin's head when Haruka's fingers suddenly intertwined with his own.

Where Rin's eyes frantically darted upwards to find Haruka staring back, he must have defied all medical logic by going from cardiac arrest to defibrillating his heart in one fifths of a second flat; still, the expression on Haruka's face was calm, and something akin to tenderness flickered away at the corners of his mouth.

(An eternity of lightwaves, the crashing roar of wind waves, and a cacophony of conflicted screams lost in that tiny smile)

"...I dreamt about the ocean," Haruka said, and when he spoke, he did not sound sleepy. "...Would you like to go?"

 

 

 

The curious thing about life is that we often expect it to make sense.

As we drift through the years in seemingly disorganized patterns, what holds us together is the hope that one day they will form a coherent picture. All these unrelated chapters, when spliced as one, must ultimately form a single narrative that serves a _purpose_.

It might not take much. A chance encounter, a spontaneous risk, even an offhanded comment from a stranger – these are the moments we'll look back at and think to ourselves, _that's where I knew, that's when I took action, those are the seconds that changed my whole life._

But life doesn't make sense.

Life does not follow a coherent pattern.

Life does not–– well, as Rei would probably put it, adhere to any inner, fundamental beauty; there is no logic, no theory, no rules to abide by in order to ensure a happy ending.

Instead, there are merely disjointed opportunities and skewed perceptions, all of which ultimately weave the thread of your past and future through choices that are as unprecedented as they are arbitrary.

Of course, we say, _I want to make the right choices._

Of course, we say, _I don't want to have regrets._

Because what we really mean is, _I need something that will connect all these loose ends and give meaning to the life I leave behind; I need a reason for all the years I spent lost in unhappiness and confusion, to know it was not all in vain._

Rin had thought about this often.

Whether it was in the wading sunsets in Australia, or the dragging shadows of his empty dorm room, one way or another he had held onto that idea. Maybe there was a part of him that had always been preparing for that moment, the one where life would give him a sign that _this was it –_ this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, the one decision that would turn everything around.

But days would come and go, weeks would pass, and all the instances that lit his nerves with confused anticipation –the echo of trespassing footsteps at Samezuka, the taste of iron and chainlink fences in harsh daylight, the sting of chlorine in his lungs in the aftermath of adrenaline– dissolved into a stream of meaningless nothings.

And it had made him wonder,

(though not ask, never once directly inquire)

if in truth, the Moment _had_ already arrived; if somewhere along the way he had blinked and missed it; if he was left waiting for the distant feed of a life that had already passed him by.

And what if, in the end, he would live to realize he had never made a choice at all,

well, what then?

The thought came to him later that day, between noon and early afternoon, when the ocean breeze tugged on his hair and prickled at his eyes with fluttering salt.

The day had dawned warm, though windy. Before they ever set outside the house, Haruka had decided to take a bath; later, he insisted on meticulously crafting breakfast. While Rin could have lived without experiencing the latter (staring at plain salted mackerel on his plate, he wondered if there was some truth to the story of the were-mackerel after all), the importance of daily routines in Haruka's life clearly signaled a change for the better, and that made Rin feel genuinely relieved.

He wouldn't have minded either way, of course. Waiting downstairs and listening to the sound of the water running gave him precious time to reel back from his brief brush with arrhythmia; afterwards, it proved surprisingly easy to just watch Haruka fill the rooms of that house with subdued life, as though the morning washed away each trace of uneasiness and sadness with the sunlight that flooded through the veranda.

As expected, Haruka made no effort to comment on the events of last night, and for that Rin probably... should have felt relieved, too.

(Maybe he did. He couldn't say. It was hard to say anything, anyway.)

He knew he had made a choice, last night, this morning – but whether any of those had been The choice or not, it was too soon to tell.

Nothing had changed.

That was the important part.

Wasn't it?

(Still, he couldn't help but notice the tiny traces of determination in Haruka's gestures, the confidence of his stride when they stepped outside; a spirit of resolve radiated off Haruka's each glance, and while the words they traded were soft and curt along the path they had so often shared in the past weeks, it... felt like something, as much as it seemed like nothing, all at once.)

However, it gripped Rin again –that undulating sensation that something wasn't _quite_ right– once Haruka failed to take the junction of the road towards the coast.

"I thought you wanted to go swimming," Rin couldn't help but note, even at the risk of sounding dumb. But the path Haruka had chosen was mountainous; the ocean cliffs ahead would make it near impossible to approach the water line without breaking your neck, and it seemed too great an accident to be coincidental.

Haruka eyed at Rin, a split second hesitation in his otherwise sanguine gaze.

"Later," Haruka said, and Rin opened his mouth, only to find no response.

(Maybe in another time, he would have rejected Haruka on the principle of suspicion alone; maybe in a different state of mind, he would have turned his unease into an argument. But so much had happened since yesterday that even Haruka's disinterest in water could not revitalize Rin's survival instinct, and so all he could do was return Haruka's sentiment with a nod.)

After all, in the end they did go to the ocean.

Haruka simply hadn't specified how many feet above sea level they would be.

Rin realized they were headed for the lookout on the hillside long before he spotted the actual canopy; his footsteps instinctively slowed down in pace. With similar intuition, Haruka glanced over his shoulder and came to a halt.

"It's okay," he said, expression dead-pan. "I'm not going to push you off a cliff."

There was a pause, then an involuntary dawn of a grin on Rin's face; as he desperately tried to stop it from spreading, that grin subsequently turned into nothing short of a grimace.

"Shut up," he practically barked out, trying not to laugh, "I'd throw you off before you even had the chance to try, I'm stronger than you anyway."

Haruka frowned, as though contemplating the premise, then nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." Haruka's expression remained calm, but a hint of playfulness gave away his intent

(Secretly, Rin was grateful for the way Haruka had sensed his sudden unrest, even if neither one of them could directly address its source; he allowed the grimace to mellow into a smile, and when Haruka picked up his pace anew, Rin followed without hesitation.)

Naturally, Rin's restlessness was not caused by some inherent belief that Haruka had mentally snapped in the aftermath of last night's emotional turmoil. The prospect of being chucked into the rocks in a body bag, well, that Rin could have dealt with; it was far more disconcerting to second guess the reasons Haruka wanted to lead him to a relatively secluded area by the ocean side, because try as he might he could only think of one thing.

(Haruka wanted to _talk_ about something, and that... that was far more dangerous than any semi-psychopathic circumstances he could ever conjure into existence in his head.)

Sure enough, once they reached the lookout, there was little else for Rin to do but follow Haruka's example as he sat down on the cylinder underneath the canopy. Rin may have noted with relief that Haruka's gaze was initially fixed on the ocean ahead, but knowing him this was a short-lived salvation; in less than a minute of silence since their arrival, Haruka opened his mouth.

"Rin, how long were _you_ alone?"

If Rin had wanted to express shock or surprise with sound, he was rendered speechless by the sheer force of Haruka's nerve. Regular people, no, _normal_ people would have at least tried to preface a discussion like this with something, maybe skirted around the topic for a while before approaching him with something as inherently sensitive; but Haruka wasn't normal, Haruka was the biggest weirdo Rin had ever had the privilege of knowing, and so Haruka also cut straight to the chase with as much self-consciousness as a slipper.

...Or that's what it felt like, at least, in the seconds that passed between Rin opening and closing his mouth like a cartoon character waiting for voiceover; because when Haruka eyed at him sideways, there was also an unusual warmth of empathy in his gaze.

"...That's how you knew, wasn't it? When you asked me that last night." Haruka paused, then went on more quietly. "Because it was the same for you."

Rin swallowed.

This... was not what he had been expecting, so far as he had been expecting anything at all; for a while he had felt the sinking suspicion that Haruka _knew_ , that Haruka _had_ realized what had happened in those confused seconds last night before Rin pulled away, and that all of this was just a way to say, _We need to have a serious conversation_ , at which point Rin might have been the one to fling himself off that very cliff.

But... this?

How was he supposed to deal with _this_?

_what is there to possibly say,_

_to possibly explain,_

_or to recall_

_of the disorganized patterns that would never form a complete picture, the loose ends that wouldn't lead anywhere, of the years you could never thread together to give meaning to the life you have wasted in vain_

(How could he possibly condense any of that in mere words, any more than Haruka could dream of explaining the measure of his own solitude away?)

But maybe Haruka... _wasn't_ expecting that, at all.

Maybe Haruka wasn't looking for easy answers, either.

Because he watched Haruka pull his legs up and shift on the cylinder with an air of patience, turning to rest his back against Rin's own; it was as though he _knew_ how impossible it was for Rin to look him in the eye, if he ever so much as imagined talking about this very subject with the one person it involved the most.

When Haruka's spine pressed against his, it stung, again, for Rin to realize how accustomed he had already become to that warmth; but he didn't flinch when Haruka's hand clasped over his, gently but firmly sliding over his knuckles and hooking around his fingers, as though grounding him to the moment with his familiarity.

"...I used to be so angry," came a voice, then, fighting through a layer of unexpected shyness behind Rin, "Back when you first told us you were... going away. Because it felt like you were walking out on us as if after everything we'd been through, like it wasn't... good enough. That we weren't good enough. I... wasn't good enough, for you."

In spite of himself, Rin realized he was holding in his breath; as Haruka carried on, the weight of his words resonated in Rin's spine through his skin.

" _He's working hard_ ," Haruka lightly imitated a voice they both recognized, "That's... what Makoto said. He kept saying it, and I believed him, until... until you came to visit, and you quit. After that, I wasn't angry, I... I don't think I was anything, until you came back, and I was angry again."

It had been minutes since Rin had uttered a single word; he swallowed heavily, shifting his head to the side. "Haru––"

"You must have been angry, too."

When Haruka cut him off, his tone came out soft, like he was piecing together the loose ends Rin had long since given up on trying to assemble. "And I used to not understand that, because you had never been angry before. It... made no sense, so I thought you were angry at me, because I made you quit."

Rin felt Haruka shake his head lightly. "But you... weren't, were you...? During the finals, Rei told me... he told me you didn't quit because of me. So I realized you weren't angry because of me. You were... unhappy, because you'd been alone for so long, and you were going to be alone again." He paused. "...Just like me, all those years ago, when you made me want to be your friend only to walk out of my life."

There was a saddened smile in Haruka's voice, now, underneath a layer of his general stoicism, but a smile nonetheless.

"I never realized how lonely you were, Rin. I'm sorry."

(And just like that,

something small and hidden within Rin's chest cracked with the pressure of the undisputed sincerity in Haruka's words;

washing over him with the scent of salt mixed with Haruka's hair, a flash of gold on the surface of the ocean, the shriek of seagulls in the sky;

and as it finally burst open, it filled Rin's ears with a distant jingle of chimes.)

He'd always thought, if this day ever came to pass, he might cry.

He'd thought that he would buckle down in an uncontrollable, emotional mess of a broken person, the way he had done on the day of their final relay;

but Haruka's grip was strong and reassuring, clinging to him without an ounce of pity, and when Rin drew in a deep breath, he felt light again – light like the early hours of the morning, once he had decided it was finally time to stop running away.

"I did work hard," he heard himself say; the ease in which the words came out surprised him, but also made him feel warm.

(Maybe he imagined it, maybe he didn't, but as Haruka leaned his head closer to Rin's shoulder, Rin could have sworn Haruka let out a small sigh of relief.)

"...I worked hard, but it wasn't enough," Rin spoke anew, a tentative smile of wistful sadness playing on his lips, "And maybe I was just naïve, but I never thought it would be... well, so difficult? To just... hell, I don't know, not feel like the biggest failure in the world, I guess?"

He felt Haruka's hold grow tighter, as though on reflex, but went on. "It's... you're right, I _was_ angry," he breathed out. "At all of you. I mean, took me years to understand you guys were the source of my strength, not what had drained it away."

Rin let out a tiny, mirthless laugh. "...Isn't it ironic? I could have spent all that time forging new friendships, but instead I bitterly blamed the ones I no longer had, huh... and when I lost to you that one time, it was easier to... blame myself, I guess. Easier than admitting to what was really making me upset, anyway."

"I should have been there."

Rin's brow lifted in surprise. There was something unreadable, almost stilted to Haruka's voice; he could not see Haruka's expression, but Rin could imagine his face scrunched up in thought, as though determined to break through a confession that had dangled on the tip of his tongue since the beginning of this conversation.

In spite of himself, Rin's heart started to race faster.

_what_

_if...?_

"I would have told you you were being an idiot."

Rin blinked.

Then, he started to laugh.

It wasn't just any laughter, though; because the sound that surged forth from somewhere at the most hollow parts of his soul, it spread across him like a flood of reprieve; amplifying by the moment, it felt as though radiance filled each corner with the glow of unexpected release, and when he breathed out in the final hiccups of his laughter, Rin could sense genuine gratitude on his breath.

_gratitude, that he exists_

_gratitude, that he still wants to be in your life_

_and gratitude, that you made it possible for him to_

He turned his head, bumping his forehead into Haruka's.

"...Come on."

Even without a mirror, Rin knew the expression on his face would be that of naked affection, and it was likewise impossible to force all of the endearment out of his voice. "You're dying to go swimming, aren't you?"

"Mhmh," came the sheepish response, and it made Rin's smile stretch into a grin.

 

 

 

"We have to go to sleep earlier tonight, because there's practice in the morning. Being lazy like today is no good."

Haruka shot Rin a sharp look from where he sat cross-legged on the bed, a book spread open on his lap. It occurred to Rin that he must have been reading, waiting for Rin to finish his bath; he almost wanted to ask what the title was, but Haruka cut him off before the thought materialized into words.

"If you're that worried about being late, you should have gone back to Samezuka for the night."

Rin felt a light heat on his cheeks, one that he hid in the soft folds of the towel. "Whatever. You got me a futon, right?"

Haruka glanced down at the set of bedding on the floor, then back up at Rin. "Evidently."

 _Smartass._ Rin pretended to cough, then casually threw his towel to hang on the back of a nearby chair. He wasn't sure what made Haruka so prickly all of a sudden, but whether that was simply Rin's self-consciousness working on overdrive, he honestly couldn't tell.

The irony was that he had caused his own self-awareness, yet again. Had it not been for the blaring sun on his neck and the surge of waves in his ears this afternoon, Rin never would have dared to be so blunt. But the carefree elation of Haruka swimming by his side had made him thoughtless, and before he could take it back, Rin had suggested he stay over for another night.

It wasn't that Haruka minded. No, Haruka had–– he'd simply nodded, like the thought was the most natural thing in the world. It had put Rin's mind at ease, for a while – at least until he thought about sleeping arrangements.

Yesterday... had been a spur of the moment kind of deal. Rin hadn't planned it, as much as he hadn't planned this, and perhaps that's exactly why it had worked. But he also knew better, now; knew the implications, knew the possible repercussions, and he couldn't just–– hell, there was nothing he could humanly say to make _should we sleep in the same bed again?_ sound innocent, or platonic, or halfway not-creepy at all.

After turning off the lights, he sat down on the floor, unsure of what the correct line of action from here on out was. It was him who had brought up the idea of sleeping on a futon – just to, you know, balance out the fact that he had been so quick to invite himself over for a second time.

That made the request reasonable, right? It wasn't weird this way, right?

(God, all these second guesses, or the myriad of ways he could interpret his own actions – they still had a way of rushing back in an infuriating tidal wave the second he left Haruka's side, and now... well, now he just had to live with his choices, as always.)

 _It's the right choice_ , Rin kept telling himself, even when something wistful tugged away at his heart at watching Haruka burrow under the light covers and turning his back on Rin. _You're doing this for him, and you're doing this for you. You're doing this, so there can ever be the two of you._

He let out a soundless sigh. It had been another whirlwind day of emotions, again, and he couldn't tell how many in a row he could take. But things had to get worse before they could get better – that's what people always said, and it had been true enough before.

(If he could just hold on for a little while longer, beat down all the haywire feelings trying to set him astray, then surely they'd become stronger for it, wouldn't they?)

_you can't help being weak, even after all this time_

_but he..._

_he makes you want to be stronger_

He could learn to live with all of this. He _had_ to learn to live with all of this. Because Rin knew he could grow to be selfless, too, to wash away the bitter sting of demanding more out of those who already gave him so much; even if it wasn't enough now, he couldn't un-learn everything he had seen of Haruka last night, and no self-pity in the world would ever be great enough to make Rin prioritize himself over Haruka again.

_Maybe this is your Moment._

_Maybe this is the choice you've been waiting to make, the one thing that defines you as a person for the rest of your life._

_Maybe..._

Such elaborate ideas of loftiness came to an abrupt and unceremonious end when a pillow smacked Rin square in the face.

He sprung upright on reflex, a flabbergasted grimace accompanying the unintentional harshness of his tone; part of it was genuine surprise, part disorientation for being so harshly dragged out of his act of serene introspection. "What the hell?"

Haruka's back was still turned on him, though, like a curt demonstration. Were it not for the pillow that had landed next to his own, Rin might have thought he had hallucinated the whole incident, and it only added to the absurdity of the scene.

"Oi, Haru, the hell was that about?"

"You're an idiot, Rin," came the snappy response; unfortunately, it was as informative as it was civil, much to Rin's dismay.

"What's that supposed to mean," he gnarled, but Haruka barely flinched. When the silence persisted, Rin called out Haruka's name anew, until finally letting out a frustrated groan.

"Okay, fine, you asked for it, Haru."

So maybe he hadn't thought this through the moment he decided to grab Haruka by the ankle; contemplating the laws of physics may have been something to consider, for one. But it wasn't Rin's fault that when he gave that slender ankle a vigorous tug, Haruka failed to hold onto the sides of his bed like a normal, sensible person; instead, Haruka toppled over with no resistance. Therefore, it was even less Rin's fault that he staggered backwards himself, until their foreheads bashed together in a single, graceless _whoomph_.

A litany of swear words flowed past Rin's lips in tune to Haruka's startled yelp. For half a minute, they sat there on Rin's futon, rubbing at their foreheads; how many brain cells their joint concussion had destroyed, Rin didn't even want to consider.

Of course, the sudden lack of nerve may have helped fuel Rin's resolve as he reached for Haruka's wrist, effectively yanking his arm down. "What the hell are you doing?"

Haruka's eyes narrowed in mild warning, and Rin halfway expected him to return the same sentiment in a venomous jab. However, when Haruka opened his mouth, his voice sounded like that of a disappointed, embarrassed child.

"If you're not going to sleep next to me, the least you can do is tell me another stupid story."

Rin's grip came loose on instinct, and Haruka used this astonishment to pull his arm back. With his hair puffed out in all directions, a light blush adorning his cheeks, Haruka's disheveled state made him look years younger than seventeen. The tiny daggers he kept shooting at Rin while rubbing on his wrist only added to the effect; Rin was willing to bet few living souls had ever had the chance to behold him looking so.... adorable?

Even Haruka's deathly glare couldn't stop the twitch that made Rin's mouth burst into heartfelt laughter for the second time today. These mood swings might have been a sign that he, too, was slowly going insane, but it was worth it – every second he spent in Haruka's company felt worth it.

(Because even if his circuitry was on the brink of overload, if his pulse was racing at two hundred miles per hour, or even if he was simply laughing hysterically to his heart's content, it... it made Rin feel _alive_ , with every fiber of his being.)

_you... you make me feel alive_

_you make me feel alive, and you don't even know_

The verdict was in: Rin had lost roughly fifteen hundred brain cells in their sudden collision, but he didn't care. Because he felt _happy_ , in a way that he couldn't remember having done in months. Like everything here was right, and everything here _belonged_ ; like no matter how ridiculous and dysfunctional and nonsensical each moment they shared was, it was supposed to be this way, right here, right now.

He couldn't stop the chuckles as he reached forward and landed a soft kiss on Haruka's forehead, right over a patch of hair that had stubbornly stuck in place.

(Yet, once the actual implication of this impulsive gesture registered with Rin's brain, he grew abruptly silent with surprise.)

_I..._

_wait_

_....?_

...Because Haruka was staring right at him, eyes wide and expectant with something Rin desperately hoped not to discern; and he kept waiting for Haruka to yank his head aside, to call Rin an idiot and climb back into his bed with embarrassed annoyance, but he never did.

Instead, Haruka breathed out a soft, tentative word, one that took Rin far too long to recognize as his own name;

and whether it was because of that lack of cognitive sense, or because of the almighty powers that be, he did not turn away.

Not when Haruka tentatively leaned over,

not when he placed his lips softly on Rin's own.

_this..._

_I'm..._

_how_

(The lightest brush of weightless warmth, a feathery touch of held back hesitation, and a sudden void of silence in Rin's mind before the noise rolled in)

Was it a kiss?

(Was it not?)

(Was it what?)

(Was it was it was it how did)

(What was how was when this why how)

(Where who when as what how in why what)

(Why was what what what what what what what what what what what what

yes)

Rin blinked. Then again. Haruka was still staring at him, a tinge of vulnerable hopefulness so raw in his expression that it almost hurt.

And it could have hurt, perhaps, if the entirety of Rin's mind hadn't also been choking for air, struggling to scream, drowning in its own voiceless discord in the aftermath of everything it had always wanted and feared the most in this world; because when Haruka closed the gap between them a second time, his lips tugging on Rin's lower lip with more reassurance than before, Rin realized he had been wrong.

There... was no Moment.

There was no one true choice.

Because life did not make any sense whatsoever, and the endless stream of his past, present, and future – none of it served any purpose other than to grant him chances at happiness, ones he could either seize or throw away forever; and whether that happiness existed in selflessness, or in the excuses that masqueraded as such, he might always struggle to understand.

(But a piece of that happiness existed in the tiny traces of ardor in the fragile kisses that passed between the two of them, in that inconsequential moment in time; it existed in the way Rin sensed Haruka's nervous tension in the light tremble of his lips, the clumsiness of his aim, the briefness that could have fooled him into thinking none of it had ever happened at all;

but the private happiness that existed in the vulnerable determination in knowing that it _did_ , oh...)

He thought of this, with all the coherence of a strung out mind, when Haruka pulled back and buried himself in the covers right there on Rin's futon.

"Goodnight, Rin," Haruka spoke, and his voice came out muffled; in any other situation Rin probably would have paid great money to catch glimpse of his expression, but it wasn't as though he was in any position to bargain right now.

As the room lapsed in silence, in some ways, Rin felt relieved – he sat there for a while longer, trying to breathe in and out until he was sure that his heart was not going to leap out his chest and explode. Eventually he rested his head on the pillow Haruka had thrown at him, and the two of them lied there wordlessly, shoulders barely touching.

It took until somewhere around two thirty and three a.m. for the reality to hit him in a single, sharp chime.

_well_

_your dream has finally turned to reality_

_and now what do you do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand this marks the end of the first "storyline" in this series, which you may have figured out by the use of themes parallel to the first chapter. From here on out we'll enter a new stage in their lives, though don't let that fool you; nothing's going to happen any faster than it has done before. Or, rather, it will - just in different ways.
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: the morning after.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. We're finally starting to get somewhere, and it's a little intimidating and exciting all at once - for me as it is for the characters. Again, I hope you have faith in that this is all headed for somewhere because I can assure you that it is, and meanwhile I hope you don't get completely bored waiting.
> 
> Thank you to anyone who's still keeping up with this thing, it means a lot.

On Monday he woke up to the sound of rain.

For minutes he remained still, listening to the rattle of raindrops dancing on glass while the humidity in the air clung to him like sunburn.

Even in the grey morning he could tell the sun was too high, the light too bright, the day too late. He had slept right through practice, but the thought passed almost as effortlessly as it came.

Through a lethargic haze, the timelessness in the room felt reminiscent of all the days he had slept in on purpose; the days following his grandmother's death, the days on which the temptation of indifference had made it impossible to care. The subtlety of his rebellion had always seemed... revolutionary, like a harmony in its perfect asymmetry; somewhere people were rushing to work, going to class, drawing blinds and preparing for life; somewhere, the world was always turning, but he was not part of it anymore.

Once upon a time it had brought him ease.

Once upon a time... he had woken up in this room, and been a different person than he was today.

_Something ending, something beginning, always changing_

(Somewhere during last night he had changed, too.)

When Haruka finally opened his eyes, the room was empty, but it was alright.

(He knew he was not alone in this house anymore, and on that he would have bet his life.)

 

 

 

The first crack of lightning flashed in his peripheral vision the moment Haruka's toes landed on the last step of the stairs. It recoiled through the foundations of the building with all the naked ferocity of a Summer storm, but even the rumble of faraway thunder was not enough to masquerade the sound of nudging the door panel open.

Leaning against the frame on the veranda, Rin gave a haphazard start.

The pale, yellow light of the room cast a sickly shadow on his face, one that trailed up to the corners of Rin's eyes. Haruka half expected to find weariness on his features, but instead Rin looked alert; pulling back his shoulders, Rin's entire posture perched up the moment Haruka entered the room. As his eyes widened for the fraction of a second, something tiny but distinct did a leap in Haruka's chest.

"Hey," Rin said, and Haruka knew at once that it was and was not a greeting.

Slowly, Rin got to his feet. It made Haruka close the door panel behind himself on reflex, the clatter of the wood swallowing whichever tentative words might have followed.

He could tell Rin seemed as unperturbed to be here as Haruka felt to find him, though. A subdued acceptance framed Rin's expression, the layer of defensiveness on infinite stand-by; there was no panic in his gaze, no hasty excuses waiting to leave Rin's tongue the second he opened his mouth.

Haruka... knew he did not need to address this, any more than Rin would ever probably feel the need to bring it up.

(Because had Rin wanted to _go_ , he would have opened that door on the morning Haruka awoke to the sound of his footsteps; and the fact that he _hadn't_ , well – that moment belonged to them both, but in very different ways.)

These past days, weeks and months belonged to them both, too.

(Unbeknownst to one another, each thought had run parallel to another, only for them to finally ravel together in a split second choice Haruka had made;

 _a choice that may or may not have been yours to make_ )

He swallowed, and the dryness of his throat suddenly felt almost sore in the humidity of the storm.

These silences, self-imposed and habitual, came to them like an art form by now; yet an eerie, low pressure held him still. Whether he had ever unconsciously been stalling for time –struggling to open his eyes on the futon, taking a long bath upstairs–, deep down he had known the world that existed beyond his reach had changed forever.

(Last night, a part of him had felt an overwhelming, unfamiliar thrill at knowing this; last night, as the air of urgency had tightened around him, it had done so with a sudden absolution of fear; the breath that had passed from his lips felt warm with unfamiliar keenness, curious as it was surprised, and the chime at the back of his mind had whispered _here_ ––)

But he couldn't hear the wind now, any more than he could hear the resolve of his heart, and all that was left was the sound of the rain that continued to fall.

From the corner of his eye he could sense Rin shift, and as the shadows on his face moved, to Haruka they looked almost like a bruise.

He could understand the sudden tightness in his chest no more than he could understand its cause – like a small part of Haruka was desperately trying to come up for air, reminding him of how stifled and hysterical he had felt on the night before the last.

_(back then you thought you understood_

_but you don't know anything, any more now than you did then_ )

He could sense Rin's confusion when he turned his back, crossing the floor over to the kitchen. In just a few steps he came to a still by the sink; leaning against it, the coolness was reassuringly solid under his touch, and it wasn't until then that Haruka realized he was shaking.

"...Haru?"

His fingers curled around the metal tighter, as though it could have grounded him to reality while the rest of his consciousness was dying to flee this room, to return to the weightlessness of the water, the confines of his former solitude.

(Had he... made a mistake?)

He...

He'd... thought he could do this.

He'd thought he was ready.

He thought he had chosen, crossed the boundary between _what if_ 's and _could have been_ 's, in seizing that moment of naked vulnerability that lay between anger and laughter;

_but it's never the choice that's the hard part;_

_it's everything that follows after_

"L, look, I–– I really think we should talk about––"

Haruka registered the voice too late, almost close enough to touch the base of his neck.

(He couldn't help the abrupt vigor he spun around with, or the haste of this gesture that caught Rin off guard. But something in Rin's tone, hidden beneath the uncertainty, was sincere enough to hurt; and in that second it rendered everything else obsolete, everything else purposeless, like an intuition that had drawn them together for all this time.)

It did not mean that instinct helped Haruka keep his balance; it did not mean Rin didn't lose his too. No, had it not been for the palm that Rin slammed into the side of the sink, and another that he grabbed Haruka's wrist with on pure reflex, both their heads probably would have hit the wall.

Haruka could have sworn this house had never been this concussion prone in the past, but the thought passed around the time gravity squashed him between Rin and the sink; air escaped from his lungs the moment another flash of lightning lit the room with a static glow, and when Haruka drew in another choked breath, he was staring right into Rin's stunned face.

_this..._

_you_

_ah_

That strange tightness in his stomach, it... didn't feel like that time, the night before.

No... back then, he had kissed Rin, yes – but he had done it almost as though to find out what it felt like, almost simply because he _could_.

(Because he had thought of it waited for it _wanted_ it in each excruciatingly slow hour, since the daybreak of imitated obliviousness and feigned sleep; and once that moment finally came to pass, impulsive and unrehearsed, Haruka could remember a brief softness, a fleeting shudder, and the scent of salt that still clung onto Rin's hair.)

But if last night had summoned in him a naïve courage more or less out of curiosity, on this pale, sickly morning he had no such excuse; it was... different, _he_ was different, lost in a world that had not existed yesterday.

(Because this time, Rin's fingers were on his wrist and Rin smelled like the rain and suddenly, suddenly Haruka couldn't even think;

_you thought you knew what you were getting yourself in for_

_ah, but you never even had a clue_ )

The only time he had ever felt such overwhelming abandon was in that split second where his body hit the water, the rush of waves surging in his ears; if it was the thunder that merged with the memory of the ocean now, he didn't stop to guess. Still, it came to him with such _ease_ , that one, heavy sigh that traced from somewhere at the back of his throat – surging from his heart, coming to life only to silence itself against Rin's lips.

(He didn't know know know why it was his first instinct, the infuriatingly _right_ thing to do; and it was selfish selfish selfish but he didn't know what to do with this, how he was meant to _deal_ with this, the unpredictability of the ache that reverberated in his bones like nothing last night had done.)

 _he's here he's here he's here_ now

_but you never know for how long, or if he will again_

It only took a second to feel Rin's entire body tense up in self-conscious surprise, and the shift was enough for Haruka's teeth to hit Rin's; it wasn't as though he had grown any more experienced at this ridiculously fumbled attempt overnight, but there was a funny kind of synchronicity in how quickly Rin rebounded, to catch him in an unintentional, open-mouthed kiss.

The second he felt Rin's tongue on his lower lip, something shot up his spine like a jolt of electricity, and the residue was enough to bleed out of his skin. It must have been an accident –a simple knee-jerk reaction– and Haruka could tell; because Rin chose that exact same moment to jerk his head back violently, eyes wide.

"Th, that," Rin choked out, voice coming out hoarse and strained, "We should–– we need to talk about _that_."

For once Rin was smart enough to not wait for a response, but instead channeled all of his panic into a single vigorous gesture – namely, the graceless tug of his arm as he practically yanked Haruka off his feet, sending him sprawling towards the table.

On the upside, the sudden motion was enough to clear Haruka's head; the sudden, dazed lull was quickly glossed over by the pain of bashing his knee against the floor, and the world came into focus anew.

(On the downside, Rin appeared no calmer even after slouching to his knees; three times in a row, he would perk up with something, then exhale while his shoulders slumped forward, unable to find the right words to say.)

Finally, Rin groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"I hate you," his voice trickled through his palms, muffled and defeated.

Haruka tilted his head. Still reeling back from the sudden tidal wave of emotion, the response left him before he could stop himself; it came out sounding nothing short of dense, yet hilariously laconic at the same time. "I don't think you do."

Rin snorted. As he lowered his hands, Haruka could see the expression on his features, tinted with an honest, nearly exhausted hint of a smile; it felt... painful and relieving to behold, simultaneously, in ways Haruka did not have time to process.

"Me neither," Rin said, pushing his head back and staring at the ceiling. "...That's the problem."

Once upon a time, it would have been hard for Haruka to understand this – how it could bring Rin such innate discomfort to want something, as opposed to everything he did not. For Haruka, it had been an easier life, rejecting everything without ever really stopping to ask himself why; but Rin, he... he'd always _known_ , hadn't he, the reason why those very things drove him to the brink of insanity, and that knowledge was ultimately what also held him back.

_you never bothered to think, and he always thought too much_

_so maybe it's time you both finally stop_

"I should have asked you if it was alright."

Rin's eyes shot at him with familiar disbelief; a morbid curiosity seemed to bind Rin to the rest of that sentence, as though he couldn't decide whether he wanted to bolt out of the door or hang onto those words with his very life.

(It was something that defined him a lot, Haruka had grown to understand.)

And so, Haruka couldn't help a tiny smile when he spoke; as he heard his voice carried over the sound of the rain, it sounded peaceful now as it had been on the day that now felt so long ago.

"It was selfish of me to not ask if you wanted to be kissed. I didn't mean to upset you. I won't do it again if you don't want me to."

Rin twitched, as though to rebuff him on heated impulse; but the gesture came to a halt, clouded over by sudden suspicion as soon as the words finished sinking in.

Taking in a deep breath, he placed both of his index fingers on the bridge of his nose as if to ward off an impending headache.

"Nanase Haruka," he enunciated slowly, "If you're trying to flirt with me right now, I am going to murder you in your sleep."

There was something strangely rejuvenated in Rin's groan, in spite of his supposedly irked tone; like he had been fumbling for the right approach, only to find relief in Haruka's choice to display a rare streak of self-awareness when he could have also come off as painfully obtuse.

(Just like on that afternoon at the lookout, trying to ease Rin through the countless barriers of anxiety at his own pace; and while it may not have made these conversations any _easier_ , at least... at least Rin knew now, like Haruka had known all along, that they were still waging this war on the same side.)

Haruka angled his head to the left in mock curiosity. "...But I'm awake."

Rin let out another unimpressed _tch_ , but one that quickly turned into an unintentional snort. He shook his head as if to shrug off Haruka's retort, but the gesture likewise soon evolved into a deep sigh as he ran an absent-minded hand through his hair.

"I don't..." he began, then grimaced at how hard it was to express any of this without sounding horribly awkward, "Okay, so I think we're past the point where it would sound halfway convincing for me to say I mind, but..."

Briefly, he hesitated, suddenly unable to meet Haruka's eye.

"Just... why?"

Why?

Well...

(And Haruka realized, then, that he had no dead-pan response or sarcastic jab to counter it with; because the truth was as unceremonious and bare as the desire to heed its call, never once leaving him a chance to second guess whether it made sense to feel this way at all.)

"Because you make me happy."

Rin's eyes widened, and when his head turned to hold his gaze, Haruka suddenly felt... calm, calmer than he could have ever imagined to stand so brazenly at the brink of rejection and not even care.

Nothing he said was a lie.

Nothing he said was something Rin didn't already know, one way or another, beneath all the layers of self-denial and fear; and it was because of that the answer flowed with a lightness that felt nothing short of absolution, for all the times he had failed to shape it into words before.

"When you wait for me, no matter how long it takes for me to finish swimming, it makes me happy. When you sign your last message the same way each night, it makes me happy. When you send me pictures of stupid looking things that remind you of me, it makes me happy. And when you get me a snack or a drink after practice, pretending it's from Makoto, it makes me happy too."

Haruka ignored the distinguishable scarlet that had begun to creep up the sides of Rin's neck, and went on as though he hadn't even noticed.

"When you smile and call my name out in laughter. When you narrow your eyes and call me an idiot instead. When you ask me if I've had lunch, then proceed to complain about what I chose to eat; when you know I know you know I don't care either way.

"When you reached closer to me in your sleep. When you reached for my hand when you awoke. When you stopped breathing the first time I kissed you; when you leaned in on instinct the second time I did. And when you wanted to talk to me about all this, as opposed to simply climbing out that window and never looking back – that... that made me the happiest of all."

(He could tell Rin was struggling to swallow, struggling to process all of this at once; the concept of Haruka being capable of expressing himself in quite so many words was novel and new, yet somehow... natural, once it came right down to it, for the sheer honesty in his voice.)

When Rin eventually opened his mouth, Haruka realized the rain in the distance was slowly letting up, now falling in a softer downpour.

"...It's that simple?"

Rin's voice was not defiant, not defensive, not laced with suspicion.

Haruka took a deep breath, and returned it with a nod.

"...That simple."

A defeated groan left Rin, but it was also uncharacteristically relieved in tone. Leaning over the table, he stretched out to bury his face in his forearm; Haruka could have sworn he heard Rin muttering another flippant _I hate you I honestly do_ into the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"So what happens now?"

Granted, it was the one thing Haruka hadn't stopped to consider; granted, he had not thought this thing through very far. The moment he had realized he wanted to be around Rin (every day of the week every hour of the day) was not one where he had miraculously decided what that meant in terms of his future, their future, anything; and as legitimate as that question was, he could not dream of offering an actual response.

Instead, he reached over the table by Rin's side, tugging at his elbow lightly. "What do you want to happen?"

Shifting his head, Rin almost bumped noses with Haruka. Through the mess of red hair falling over his eyes, Rin looked... hesitant, in so many ways, but also hopeful, and expectant, and unafraid – never afraid, Haruka realized, since the subtle confession had left his lips.

(Somehow, Haruka couldn't help the way it made his stomach tighten anew.)

"I––" Rin began to say, and it was then that Haruka's doorbell rang with a violent screech.

This time the universe seemed merciful, and did not bash their heads together; this time only Rin jerked his knee against the leg of the table, and swore under his breath while Haruka got to his feet in automated motion.

(Something in his head was buzzing again, brought on by their proximity and the renewed spirit in Rin's gaze, and the short trek to the hallway only partially dispelled his daze.)

When he opened the door, a flash of red brushed past him at shoulder level.

"Oh thank goodness Haruka-senpai you're home is my brother here," Gou breathed out in a single consecutive line, stumbling lightly as she pulled off her wet shoes, shrugged off her soaked track jacket, and darted further into the house without dawdling for an invitation.

Behind her, a sheepish-looking Makoto scratched the back of his head. He offered Haruka an apologetic look, but an angry scream travelled into the hall before he could divulge any serene words of explanation.

"ONII-CHAN!! WE SPENT AN HOUR WAITING FOR YOU IN THE RAIN!! YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU WERE GOING TO SKIP PRACTICE!!"

Makoto tilted his head, Haruka shrugged, and the two of them followed Gou into the living room.

As they entered, Rin was holding his ear with one hand, while the other kept Gou at bay. "Stop screaming, I said I was sorry," he barked, a sudden fire in his expression that matched Gou's, "I forgot to check my phone, okay?!"

"You're the _worst_ ," Gou snapped, flailing her tiny fists around, "We actually took a train to Samezuka, thinking you'd had the sense to change plans because of the weather! But you weren't there, Haruka-senpai wasn't answering his phone either, and we couldn't think of a single reason why he would ever skip practice unless the two of you were somewhere together instead and oh dear lord I need to stop talking right now don't I––"

As Gou came to a listless halt by the end of her tirade, Rin used the opportunity to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose anew. The expression he made was truly a sight to behold; the idea that someone could scrunch up their face to that degree was practically astounding.

"Makoto," he spoke, not actually looking at Makoto out of suspended dread, "Please. Tell me. Nagisa isn't here."

Makoto shook his head. "No, after we visited Samezuka, he and Rei decided to call it a day," he said, and Rin let out a sigh that reminded Haruka of someone being momentarily pardoned at death row.

From the corner of his eye, Haruka saw Gou biting down on her lower lip. Most of the fight had drained out of her in the aftermath of realizing what had seemingly dawned on Makoto long ago; instead of angry she now seemed fascinated in an altogether puzzled way, exchanging rapid glances between Haruka and Rin like a game of table tennis.

To disguise her apparent keenness, though, Makoto coughed. "I tried leaving you a message," he said, directing his words at Haruka, "But once you never replied, I figured we should come straight here. There's only one reason you wouldn't carry your phone with you these days, after all."

Although Makoto was gracious enough to leave the rest of his sentence dangling on implication, even he couldn't resist the slight mischievous glint in his eye. In some ways it was a daring move; back in the day Haruka would have certainly felt agitation upon having his matters pried into. For what it was worth, Rin still looked nothing short of ready to strangle his younger sister, but... somehow, Haruka realized it didn't exactly bother him now.

Somehow... the presence of Makoto, and even the presence of Gou, it felt like _family_ ; like the bickering between Rin and Gou was meant to happen here, right under this roof. Similarly, it felt natural for Makoto to not-so-innocently tease him under his breath, and that... left the strangest, yet softest touch of gratitude lingering at the recesses of Haruka's chest.

"If you don't mind waiting a little, I can make you all breakfast," he heard himself speak aloud, and the smile on Makoto's face stretched wider.

 

 

 

That day, the house did not grow empty until the sun began to wane in the horizon.

Gou managed to coax Rin into visiting their mother by reminding him that in less than a week, Summer break would be over, and he had yet to try out her tsukemen. It wouldn't be far, she added, because every Summer their mother spent a month or two tending to their grandmother's house; a quick flash of something unreadable flickered on Rin's face at this, but he did not turn her invitation down.

When they turned to say goodbye –Gou with an enthusiastic wave of her hand, Rin with a farewell full of feigned aloofness– Haruka knew he was becoming suspended in time.

(Maybe one of the reasons Rin had found it easier to simply stay overnight repeatedly was because the concept of parting had never come to them easily; one of these days they might learn to break through the latent discomfort with something more than awkwardness, but in front of Gou and Makoto it felt impossible to so much as try.)

Makoto probably sensed this, watching Haruka's gaze trail after Rin; once more his expression was tinted with apology as he gently nudged at Haruka's arm.

"You want to come have supper at our place? Ran and Ren have this game they're dying to show you, you can make your own room and decorate it with things and visit animals in a town you become the mayor of."

There was a brief delay in Haruka's reaction before he eyed at Makoto. The undisputed tenderness in that gaze dispelled any final doubt Haruka might have had whether Makoto _knew_ , and as much as he hadn't minded the former teasing, well... witnessing Makoto's contentment suddenly felt oddly overwhelming to behold.

Haruka lightly shook his head, lost between wanting to revel in that feeling and pretending it did not exist. "...It's okay."

With that he turned to return, but before Makoto made any move to will his feet in motion, his voice rang out anew; what caught Haruka off guard was a trace of something new among the familiar friendliness of Makoto's tone, like relief laced with genuine appreciation.

"...I'm proud of you, you know."

Instinctively, Haruka yanked his head over his shoulder, but only caught Makoto's congenially retreating back.

(Something privately pleased twisted at the corner of his mouth.)

 

 

 

Two hours later, it took Haruka forever to find his phone. Normally, it travelled everywhere in whichever pocket seemed closest to his heart, but in the past two days there had been no need. When he located it safely tucked away on a shelf downstairs, it became apparent the battery had died somewhere between Sunday and Monday morning; the minutes he spent sitting on his bed watching the tiny recharge bar blink seemed like an exercise in piety.

After all, as long as he kept staring at that icon on the display, he wouldn't need to think of anything else.

He wouldn't need to think of this house, far bigger and emptier than he had ever imagined before; wouldn't need to remember that when he woke up tomorrow morning, he would find himself alone.

(Of course Rin had to go home eventually, of course this moment was bound to come; but Haruka had never thought about how exactly it would make him _feel_ , caught in an interlude while waiting for the next chapter to pass. And maybe, he ought to have spent all that time reflecting on everything that had happened in these past two days, but an unfamiliar restlessness kept his eyes fixed on that recharging bar anyway and he...)

The display shone with 56% when Haruka booted up his phone.

True to his word, he discovered three messages from Makoto; one from Saturday, one from Sunday, one dated this morning.

_I hope you got home safely! Nagisa insisted we should watch something called High School Musical to help me sleep better, but I don't know if I'll only get more nightmares..._

_It looks like a great day out! Rei and I are going to town today, if you want to join us let me know._

_Since you're not answering your phone, I take it Rin's with you. I'll probably come over with Gou-chan later today just to make sure you two haven't ended up in the morning papers for all the wrong reasons. Take care._

Then there were the messages from _Nagisa_ , all hailing from between 8 and 10 a.m.

_Haru-chaaaaaannnn_

_Where are you haruchan_ ( ≧Д≦)

_Harurururururururu_

_r u dead_ Σ(๑+⌓ o｡)シ

 _why would u skip practice if ur not dead_ (☼Д☼)

_HARUCHAN_

_ARE YOU WITH RIN_ (((＠°▽°＠)八(＠°▽°＠)))

_IS RIN WITH YOU_

_HE IS ISNT HE_ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

_OMG IM COMIN OVER_

_OK REICHAN SAYS I CANT COME OVER_

_NO REICHANS GONNA STEAL MY PHONEJGF_

_DFSUIDNNSESA:KDFKS_

_4J4R,E_

Haruka never replied to those messages, but he did not delete them either.

He got up from his bed to turn on the light; the air that filtered through the gap in his window felt fresher than it had done in days. It was what he had always liked about Summer rain, anyway; the moment after stifling heat, when the storm washed away all suffocating pressure and made it easier to breathe.

(But only for so long; when the sound of chimes joined by a faint buzz caught his ear, Haruka was surprised to learn his chest felt heavy.)

_im so full_

_i think my mom is convinced they only feed us at samezuka every five days_

In spite of himself, it made Haruka smile. It was far too easy to imagine Mrs Matsuoka hounding Rin to eat with a fervor similar to Gou's burst of temper earlier today; together, the three of them must have been a true force of nature, and Haruka wasn't sure if the mental image was more fascinating or frightening to contemplate.

And yet... the afterthought that followed was oddly melancholy in tone; as warm as it made Haruka to think about Rin with his family, as opposed to being confined within the four walls of his dorm room in Samezuka, it simply underlined Haruka's own solitude in a way he had not known to anticipate.

(It wasn't like Rin was never coming back.

It wasn't like Rin didn't care.

It wasn't like he didn't know that Rin was thinking about him, even at this very minute, but...)

Why did it matter at all, though?

...Was it strange that he suddenly cared?

He'd... never cared before, but then, what reason had he _had_ ; that life belonged to someone else, to people like Makoto, to people who made connections with others and thought of them even when they were not around; it was a life Haruka had never specifically _wanted_ , no more than it had felt like anything he needed, but now...

Haruka swallowed, letting his head rest against the bed as he reached out his hand to type an inconsequential, meaningless reply, to disguise the fact that he suddenly had no idea what he was supposed to say to Rin at all.

**the fatter you get the better you float**

As he clicked _send_ , something inside Haruka kept winding and unwinding in elaborate little knots. He wished he could have explained where all these unexpected pangs of discomfort were welling up from, because they would rush over him like an erratic wave; one moment he felt fine, while in the next a discomfort lodged itself at the depths of his self-confidence, undulating with the eerie echo of loneliness.

He knew, he _knew_ nothing would change in the hours until they saw one another again, and still...

_the idea of him having a life that does not include you, well_

_it makes you scared_

(Even through all his inexperience and willful ignorance of the world, Haruka knew there was nothing healthy or attainable in that thought, but he couldn't help it; because it clung to him like a desperate whim, irrational and frightening, as the morning he had felt like screaming at his mother off the top of his lungs.)

_what's_

_happening to me_

(The overwhelming happiness that could transform into a crippling fear in the blink of an eye, the touch of Rin's breath on his skin and the emptiness that trailed in its wake; how was he supposed to deal with any of this, when it was difficult enough to keep his thoughts from derailing with the pressure of euphoria and dread combined as one?)

His phone let out another chime, and Haruka's heart beat in sync to the digits he pressed to open the message.

_Is makoto still there?_

Haruka blinked.

He had anticipated another trivial string of words that only ever served the purpose of connecting their thoughts to one another, but instead Rin had thrown off the script; Haruka felt a suspicion drenched in anticipation trailing his every breath once he rushed to respond without even trying to appear laidback.

**no. why?**

_no reason_

Fifteen seconds.

**i don't believe you**

_i dont care what you believe_

Ten seconds.

**then why did you ask**

Five.

_because i never gave you an answer._

Haruka frowned, but the expression never had time to fully set in.

(Zero.)

The absolute irony of it all was, of course, that in years to come he would pinpoint this exact moment as the one where he probably _knew_ ; not because of any grand epiphanies or serene clarity, but because there was no other way, no other reason, no other explanation to account for all the helpless swings of emotion that seeped uncontrollably out of his soul;

but he did not think of any of this, not while his heart leaped to his throat once the words _look out your window_ materialized on the display of his phone.

"Hey," Rin's voice rang out, gaining a subdued echo in the deepening night; where the light of the nearby houses caught his features, they cast a shadow on his face that looked like a halo instead of a bruise.

A funny kind of zest seemed to envelop him with spirit, one that sent Rin throwing his arms over the fence next to the veranda, and in a single swoop Rin had pulled up close enough to touch the eave. On reflex, Haruka found himself leaning through the window, as though to meet him halfway; once Rin went on, he half spoke, half yelled his words into the space between them:

"You asked me what I want to happen now, right? And look–– I dunno if I know that any better than you do, or if there's anything I can say that won't just jinx the shit out of everything, but I––"

(There it was, the inevitable hesitation, one that trickled through even the most confident of Rin's fronts when he plunged into the deepest of his vulnerabilities; because neither one of them had ever really stopped being afraid since any of this began, but the point, the one thing that mattered more than anything was that––)

"I want to be with you okay?!"

(––both of them still _wanted_ it, enough to want to _try_ )

And really, there were a lot of things Haruka wanted to ask then.

Such as, _what do you think you're doing_ ;

or, _are you out of your mind_ ,

or even, _I never asked you to do this_ ;

but instead, the what came out of his mouth was,

"You do realize this isn't some kind of shoujo manga, right?!"

Rin made a Face; for a second Haruka thought Rin was going to throw something at him (hopefully not a rock), but he pulled back from the fence before any projectile objects came flying.

"That's all I came to say," Rin called out instead. A little lost now that the emotional high was slowly beginning to wane, he took two tentative steps towards the road. "I have like... twenty minutes before mom starts wondering why it's taking me forever just to buy water from the nearest Lawson."

Haruka's eyes widened.

_no_

_don't you_

_d a r e_

He felt his fingers clinging to the window sill with a sudden rush of urgency; the mere thought that Rin was going to leave him here ( _with all these unnecessary troublesome confusing wonderful exhilarating twists of his heart_ ) was enough to make him want to strangle someone.

(Rin couldn't just _do_ something like this, he was not–– he wasn't going to––)

"Don't–– don't you even think––"

It was a sheer miracle he broke no floorboards with the haste and vigor Haruka made his way downstairs; after the rain, the air was cooler than many nights before, but he could barely discern it through the sudden heat on his skin. When he jabbed a sharp hand on Rin's chest, the expression on Rin's face was nothing short of flabbergasted.

"We're not done here," Haruka snapped in agitation, and the frustration in his voice caught even him by surprise, "If you're going to be an embarrassing comic book character, don't think it's okay to walk away without following it through!"

(But that hand, he could suddenly tell, was also trembling; his eyes widened with the same realization that dawned on Rin's face;

_it has to be you_

_it has to be you, who seals that distance between doubt and hope,_

_in more than mere words alone_ )

"You're terrible at this," Haruka heard Rin mutter under his breath, but even the darkness could not conceal an unusually rosy hue on his skin.

Whether a bruise or a halo, Haruka couldn't see the shadow when Rin's body shifted to block the light; he felt a hand lift his chin with an almost unnoticeable brush, and when Rin's face leaned in towards his own, it could have been reminiscent, or it could have not.

(But this time Rin did not pull away at the last moment; this time his hold was firm, and though intuitively apprehensive, the touch of his lips filled with resolve; this time, they stood there locked in that single, chaste kiss until Haruka felt a sanguine glow returning to his body, until it washed away the remnants of his helpless unease.)

It was alright. It was enough. It was–– it was exactly what he'd needed, to stifle the shade of an unharnessed kindling brewing somewhere deep down; doubts that he refused to give room to breathe, lest they flourish into an alien, foreboding weakness that left nothing but ashes and selfishness in its wake.

(And he knew, too;

that no other person had ever made him feel as mercurial, and no other person ever might;

and on moments like these it both thrilled and frightened Haruka beyond recognition.)

Still, Rin's forehead was warm against Haruka's when he briefly placed them together; and when he spoke, his voice carried a strength Haruka did not understand he had been clinging onto until it renewed his spirit in a few, simple words.

"Goodnight, Haru. I'll see you tomorrow."

Haruka stood there for a long while after, watching the night swallow Rin down that tiny path.

(The darkness swallowed all trace of light and shadows along with his footsteps, until all that was left was silence.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't let the moodswings deter you; next time on the same swimming hell channel: dokidoki central. Be warned.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A confession: when I said Dokidoki central?  
> I should have said, One Of The Last Few Road Bumps On The Way To Dokidoki Central.
> 
> (There's still some dokis. Just, uh, you know - sometimes realism gets in the way first. Or as much realism as I can hope to have in a story of this sort without it turning into an after school special. But I swear there's a story down here, somewhere. And one of these days it might actually be rewarding to read.)
> 
> Once more, thank you to everyone who has remained a reader; your comments and responses are what makes everything worth it when I feel like it would be easier if this story simply existed in my head. But then sometimes I feel like there is a story worth telling, so out it comes.
> 
> I am sincerely thankful for your love and patience.

 

 

"...Hey. It's not too late to call, is it?"

"Ah, no, it's fine. I just finished putting the twins to bed. Is everything alright?"

"Uh, well, you–– You know those moments when something happens and you just–– you know, it doesn't hit you till afterwards? What just happened."

"....Yeah?"

"Okay, well, plug your ears."

"....Sorry?"

"...Just do it, Makoto."

"Okay, I––"

" _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"_

"....For what it's worth, I think Ren and Ran just woke up."

"...Sorry."

"...I'll see you at the station in the morning, Rin."

 

 

 

_What do you want to happen?_

He should have seen it coming.

He should have known to expect this, since the morning he woke up unintentionally glued to Haruka's side and could not even breathe – that the life of Matsuoka Rin was not, as it happened, one of smooth transitions.

Sure, he liked to cut around the edges here and there –remember himself as far more graceful and composed than the person who had screamed like a wild banshee or kicked garbage cans with the poise of a drunken hobo– but the truth had always been this:

Matsuoka Rin was, to be perfectly honest, the biggest loser in the entire universe.

On the afternoon he spent watching the three most important people in his life around the squat table in Haruka's living room, he couldn't have been more painfully aware of this. Observing the glint of mischievousness in Gou's eye, the acceptance in Makoto's laugh, the unusually unguarded way Haruka would turn his head and try to stifle a smile into his shoulder – Rin knew what all of it meant, but it took hours for the realization to connect.

_Being with you... made me happy, too_

(Childhood, adulthood, and everything that lay between; how could it not have been exactly as simple as Haruka had claimed it to be, when Rin knew this was the one thing that had ever consistently made sense in his life?)

...The only problem is, sometimes the things that seem the easiest are also the hardest; sometimes we lack the words to express how we feel, not because it doesn't matter, but because it matters too much. And so; because Rin was still a monumental loser, as opposed to turning around and telling Haruka exactly this, what he did instead was follow Gou back to their grandmother's house.

What he did was sit through the light-hearted _oh, it's about time young man_ 's and the _you know mom, onii-chan likes to think of himself as a rare and elusive pocket monster_ 's; helped their mother make dinner, talked about school, ignored the long glances Gou shot across the table.

He ate. Stared at the wall. Absent-mindedly listened in on Gou's phone call, because his sister had yet to master the meaning of volume. Found out Chigusa had bought new shoes. Yellow ones.

All the while his thoughts never stopped drifting.

He'd stare at his phone, the familiar name on the display, and somehow with each hour that passed he was finding it hard to remember the excuses; with each hour it felt like the memory of Haruka's warmth against his lips was slowly dissolving, and that thought... kind of really made him scared.

_All... I ever wanted was for you to understand me_

All... he had to do was to tell Haruka.

After all, Haruka had told _him_ ;

and whether it was competitiveness, or whether it was just wanting to throw all doubt and weariness into the wind, by 10 pm Rin decided that this whole indecisiveness thing?

Was bullshit.

Because to be a loser doesn't mean you're a coward; being a loser doesn't mean you're someone who runs away. And maybe he could only ever run on the adrenaline of that conviction for so long before the familiar insecurities kicked in, but since the universe finally felt like being on his side for once, that exact amount was enough.

(Enough to know he had made the right decision when Haruka's eyes widened in a combination of surprise and disbelief; when a familiar blue fire lit up in his gaze, arms flailing, a sudden bout of frustrated anger ruining each and every part of the romantic moment Rin had crafted in his head.)

Haruka always ruined everything, after all.

(But he... also made everything _perfect_ , in ways that Rin could never properly explain;

and he might not be able to say how any of this made any sense whatsoever, either, but when Haruka had stared him down with enough aggravation to paralyze a grown man, Rin could have sworn he _felt_ it – the trail of helplessness seeping out from Haruka's trembling hand, because it wasn't as though either one of them could afford to not be insecure.)

But maybe what they could afford was to meet each other halfway;

( _always_ )

because Matsuoka Rin might have been a colossal loser, but together with Haruka... well, he had never been anything other than a success.

It was a good thing, then, that the inevitable freak-out waited to hit Rin until the moment he stood in the light of a streetlamp, a plastic water bottle in one hand and a trembling mobile phone in the other.

(It was an equally good thing that Makoto had probably been prepared for worse.)

 

 

 

And then?

And then.

The Tuesday that dawned over a night of restless half-dreams was important for two reasons.

Firstly, it marked the last day of joint practice before the end of the Summer break. After today, both teams would return to their usual regime, preparing for the beginning of second term.

And secondly...

_From this day onward, your life is no longer only your own._

Rin tried his best not to think of either one as they headed out to Samezuka that morning; there was a lightness to Gou's step as she hummed along to a song Rin didn't recognize. She seemed chipper, far more so than she ought to have been at this time of the day. Unsurprisingly, the source of her good mood became evident once they found Nagisa and Rei already waiting at the train station.

Nagisa's legs had been swaying back and forth on a bench; the abrupt manner in which they came to a halt alerted Rin to mentally prepare himself for how Nagisa's face would soon light up with mischievous glee.

After all, Rin knew Gou knew; he knew Makoto knew, too, because with or without his weird ass mental link to Haruka, Rin was personally responsible for the lack of ambiguity in last night's call. By proxy, Rin wasn't naïve enough to think that Rei and Nagisa were oblivious yesterday, either; Nagisa had his ways of unearthing secrets with frightening accuracy, and the whole skipping-practice-for-no-apparent-reason had not exactly been subtle.

Instead of double entendres or indiscreet gazes, though, the slightest tension around Rei's eyes seemed to hold Nagisa down. Still, even the horrors Rei had undoubtedly threatened him with couldn't stop Nagisa from predictably quipping, "So, this time Rin-chan chose to come too, did he?"

Rei's shoulders pulled back as though bracing himself for an explosion, yet the remark surprisingly bounced off Rin with little to no disdain; instead of embarrassed aggravation, he was surprised to feel... a tug of a hopeless grin. Moreover, that stupefied grin never left him, even after Gou chimed in with an awfully conspiratorial "Oh hoh hoo, your bad influence would rub off on me too much if he didn't."

Because for a passing second Rin could have sworn he heard a distant chime in the air, like a throwback to something he could almost remember; and as the sound of light footsteps approached the station, two shadows splashed against the pavement, and somewhere at the edge of his consciousness Rin could feel Haruka coming alive.

(It made him feel as though... he had been here before, in this moment, sometime, somehow, cutting through a rift in another life;

yet it wasn't the same,

not this time, not at all.)

Rin's stomach did a funny little lurch when Haruka lifted his eyes and stared wordlessly straight at him; a charged curiosity held them both down at all sides, before Makoto let out a small laugh and tugged at Haruka's back to get him to move.

Heavens bless Nagisa for holding his tongue; heavens bless Gou for having the sensibility to shut up. Heavens bless the heavens for granting Rin the strength to generate a halfway normal smile when he nodded at Haruka; heavens bless whoever helped him hold that expression, once Haruka passed Rin to reach the ticket machine and lightly brushed his wrist.

Rei quickly engaged Makoto in a conversation about today's practice that seemed entirely too normal to appear coincidental; somewhere in the background Rin could still hear the stifled murmurs of Nagisa and Gou, exchanging information as the six of them waited for their train. But with the morning sun trickling on his face and Haruka's shoulder touching his every time Rin drew in a deep breath, he... also found it surprisingly easy not to care.

Everything seemed... suspended, almost, on that delicate boundary between normal and bizarre; as though the pieces of the universe were slowly readjusting themselves, to cope with everything that had and had not changed in the past few days.

Rin wasn't sure how to feel about it; he wasn't sure how he felt about _anything_ , to be perfectly honest, but...

(He also couldn't help that it simultaneously made him so restless and excited, that it made his breath hitch in his lungs when Nagisa latched onto a nearby seat and not-so-subtly squashed Rin against Haruka; because the strip of bare skin on Haruka's forearm left Rin's nerves as hyperaware as on the morning before, and this... felt to him as unnerving as it did welcome.)

Somewhere on the other end of the aisle he heard Gou breathe out, _You know what'd be fun? Taking a trip somewhere together, sometime, like–– an onsen, maybe?_ but the rest of her words were lost in the clatter of the train tracks and the scent of Haruka's hair.

He could... get used to that, couldn't he?

(Get used to the lightness in his stomach, the sunlight throwing freckled shadows on Haruka's neck, the strange recollection of what it felt like to be _happy_ in the tiniest, most insignificant of ways)

Through all the self-doubt and denial, the weeks he had thrown into relentless second-guessing and fear; through overcoming that one part of himself that had whispered _what if, what if all of this is doomed to fail_... He'd earned it, hadn't he?

But in the last days of his Summer break, in the second year of high school, what Rin would come to learn was not the meaning of making a single, well-placed choice.

What he'd come to realize, instead, was the depth of clinging onto that conviction – the moment you step out into the world and face reality.

In other words, if Rin had thought things would get easier from here on out?

Well, he'd be wrong.

 

 

 

"Matsuoka! Good thing you arrived early! There's something I need you to do for me today."

When it came right down to it, mastering the art of dodging the full weight of Mikoshiba's arm was not that tricky: you only had to bend your knees a split second before the impact, and the slap would turn into a gentle pat.

Too bad Rin hadn't mastered an equally sneaky way of dodging Mikoshiba altogether, because he ambushed Rin in the hallway almost as soon as they entered Samezuka.

From the corner of his eye Rin saw Haruka lift a single brow. Makoto's footsteps came to a slow halt, but Rin waved at them quickly with dismissal, as if to tell the rest to carry on ahead. (It was strange to realize how unusually apathetic it made him to watch them go without him, anyway.)

"Can't you just make Nitori do it?"

It should have been relieving to hear Mikoshiba counter Rin's instinctive response with a snort, but that laughter was also tinted with an ominous air once he gave Rin's shoulder another light shove.

"Did you forget he won't be back 'till tomorrow? Besides, the request I have is something we, as a team, decided only you could do. After all, our special guests should only be inspired by the best!"

"...Special guests...?" Rin repeated, half-dazed; every word Mikoshiba spoke made him more and more suspicious, and that wide grin was every ounce as foreboding as whatever Mikoshiba was consciously withholding.

The fact alone that he felt the need to withhold anything at all, well, it could only mean one thing.

"...I can't say no, can I?" Rin breathed out, and Mikoshiba shook his head, grin never wavering for a moment.

"No, you can't. So go get ready and meet me by the pools in five!"

It hardly surprised Rin that by the time he made it through the showers, everyone else had already gone on ahead. Maybe it was better that way; it gave him time to force himself calm, rehearsing the mental mantra that nothing Mikoshiba had planned could be _that_ horrible. It might take Rin an hour at max to complete, but that still left him all the time in the world to spend the remaining last day of practice with Haruka and the others.

It really couldn't be that bad, he honestly ought to learn to not be so pessimistic, he––

"Kids, meet Matsuoka Rin. Matsuoka, meet the junior swim team."

––was going to drown himself.

Around fifteen pairs of expectant eyes stared back at Rin, each hailing from a level far too low to his liking; the group of children must have been around nine to twelve years old in age, but to Rin it felt like he had stepped right into a nursery. (Hell, he was pretty sure that if he shoved at the short kid in the foreground, they might all topple over like weirdly coloured bowling pins.)

Struggling not to swear out loud, Rin fixed a fiery gaze firmly on Mikoshiba. He seemed blissfully oblivious to the glare, though, and directed the following words at the juniors. "Matsuoka here is one of our best swimmers, and today he is going to work with you. We've reserved a special lane so none of our other students will be a bother. So make sure you make use of this opportunity to its fullest!"

Fifteen little heads nodded in unison before scampering off into the water; once it became clear this wasn't simply a belated April Fool's joke, Rin swallowed and tugged at Mikoshiba's arm. "H, hey. Seriously? I don't–– is this a good idea? I know next to nothing about kids."

"Ah." Mikoshiba's voice suddenly grew lower, and as he eyed at Rin, there was something subdued in his expression. "This is actually an exercise for you too. I know–– Look, you've progressed a lot since the finals, and it's not a vote of no confidence. But you have yet to work on patience, and keeping your emotions from overwhelming you."

Rin's mouth twisted with a wry half-smile. "...So you're making me work with a bunch of rowdy, inexperienced kids, is what you're saying."

"Essentially, yes," Mikoshiba said, lifting a hand on his waist as he nodded at the kids, "Although they do not seem particularly rowdy. And they might be less inexperienced than you think."

"Tch," Rin groaned, and took a deep breath.

It wasn't as if he had grounds to argue; Mikoshiba _was_ his captain, even without Rin's personal track record of conduct still trying to climb up from minus figures. Besides, if there was anything Rin hated more than Mikoshiba springing stuff like this on him, it was knowing he did it with a legitimate reason.

Still, Rin found himself instinctively glancing across the hall. In addition to the Iwatobi team, he recognized a lot of regular Samezuka students, already hard at practice; while not exactly crowded, the lanes were bustling with swimmers, and a standard murmur of voices echoed off the walls.

As he turned his head, he caught Nagisa waving in the distance. He saw Rei lift up two dorky thumbs, while Makoto simply tilted his head in empathy. Haruka, of course, was nowhere in sight; to be completely honest, Rin would have felt more unnerved had this not been the case.

Nonetheless, it made Rin's face twist in frustration.

Here he was, stuck playing babysitter to a bunch of kids; how fitting, especially when all he really had been hoping to spend the last day of practice on was to swim with––

"Or is there something more pressing you should be attending to?"

Mikoshiba's sudden question literally made Rin flinch, and he yanked his head back with abrupt vigor.

_What?_

Opening his mouth to respond, Rin was perplexed to realize that nothing came out. The sudden, unreadable expression on Mikoshiba's face sent a strange pang of self-consciousness up Rin's spine, and for a moment he felt like something had shot-circuited his brain.

There... was nothing implicit in Mikoshiba's voice; nothing to indicate his words had carried hidden meaning at all. The whole thought struck Rin as ridiculous the second it materialized in his head; yet in the aftermath of each word, he... could also sense the weight of something mirthless seeping into his bones.

(Gou's cheeky smile, Nagisa's indiscreet leers, Rei's desperate attempt to sound normal, Makoto's patient concern, and an ocean blue stare that never once had left Rin's side...)

Rin eyed at Mikoshiba, suddenly unable to hold his gaze.

_...Can he tell?_

Rin almost shook his head on reflex.

( _impossible_ )

He stood there for a moment, trying to crush the uneasiness as quickly as it had emerged; shit, Rin didn't even know what reason he had to be uneasy _for_. They'd had this conversation before –of Mikoshiba admitting it was his job to keep tabs on any sudden changes in his team's emotional landscape– but that didn't mean he knew, didn't mean it was personal, it didn't––

"No," the response shot out before he could stop himself.

(His voice came out void of any true emotion before Rin could ask himself why, either.)

"...Nothing at all."

 

 

 

"Who's that?"

Rin felt his focus break, and the kid whose arm he had been holding plunged underwater in one graceless swoop. "Huh?"

The child who had called for his attention –nondescript, short dark hair, silent eyes, more likely to invent a time machine than marry young– seemed unfazed, and merely pointed towards the other end of the hall. "That boy. Over there."

Rin turned his head, although he did not need to. Sure enough, the person in question was doing haphazard circles in the aftermath of today's regime, unconcerned with the Samezuka students who had to pull to an occasional screeching halt to avoid bashing head first into Haruka.

"Nobody," Rin replied, trying to cut the conversation short; by the time he got around to saving the unfortunate first child from drowning, Rin noticed he had already swum to the other end of the lane to complain to his friends.

Whichever lesson Mikoshiba had tried to teach him, Rin clearly wasn't doing a very impressive job at it.

It... wasn't entirely his fault, though; as much as this could have been a valuable opportunity for introspection, self-reflection, whatever-the-hell-ever-spection, in his current state Rin could only regard the young swimmers as distraction. Sure, they turned out as well-behaved and sharp as Mikoshiba had implied, but any soulful bonding or tearful exploration over his own youth would have to wait for another day.

Because he also couldn't stop thinking; couldn't stop a morbid curiosity from taking over with each and every person that passed Rin by. As crazy at must have sounded like, he couldn't help wondering whether somehow, someway, each and every one of them...

( _knows that something about you has irrefutably changed_ )

Logically speaking, Rin knew he was over-thinking it. But he also didn't know what to do with this strange hyper-awareness, following in the aftermath of Mikoshiba's innocent jibe; because he'd never felt so strongly about _anything_ before, and it seemed near impossible that the weight of this emotion did not simply radiate off him like a neon street sign.

Could it be noticed?

"You've been staring at him the whole time. I noticed."

Rin whirled around anew, and swallowed in spite of himself as he held the young boy's blank expression of honesty.

"Yeah," another kid surfaced nearby, but this one did not bother hiding the grumpiness in his voice. "Mikoshiba-sensei said you'd show us something cool, but all you do is fidget around like you've forgotten how to swim."

A sudden nerve on the side of Rin's head twitched. He hadn't been expecting _that_.

A third kid paddled towards the other two, as though they were in the middle of some kind of bizarre aquatic village gathering (with Rin as the town idiot, evidently). A light murmur of agreement followed from a larger crowd once he shared his complaints. "I thought Samezuka was supposed to be elite, but I guess they're just like any other school."

Rin took a deep breath, letting it filter through his teeth as he counted to ten.

Alright, so he had signed up to be a babysitter. He may have even signed up for vaguely disconcerting feelings regarding his personal relationship that he was desperately trying to ignore. But what he had _not_ signed up for were eleven-year-olds telling him he was a lousy swimmer, and he'd be damned to let that misconception live for another minute.

Rin turned to face the crowd, rousing the attention of all fifteen children in the near vicinity. When he spoke, there was zero hesitation in his voice, insecurity paving way for pride.

"Hey, juniors, if you want to see something cool? I'll show you something cool."

Ignoring the confused looks, he pulled up from the pool; not dawdling for a moment lest he start to regret such an over-exaggerated display of annoyance, Rin turned around and let out a loud whistle that cut across the hall like a knife.

"Oi, Haru. 100 m, right now, on the count of three."

(He could have stopped to observe the curiosity on the faces of half-strangers; he could have stopped to feel self-conscious about drawing attention to the one thing he had tried to downplay all day. But he couldn't, not when his senses were far too busy registering the flicker of poignant warmth in his chest once the only response Haruka offered was a prompt, determined dive to the starting block.)

Maybe, it wasn't really about the kids doubting his abilities or trash talking his school. Maybe it wasn't about what Mikoshiba thought, or what he knew, or what anyone in this goddamn hall could tell simply because Rin's insides had not stopped erupting like a volcano since the night he returned from Haruka's house. Maybe what he really wanted was, in fact, to prove a point – but not to the others.

 _Nothing's changed. Nothing's changed nothing's changed nothing's changed and you_ know

"Giving up on your assignment already?" Rin heard Haruka speak under his breath, flipping a pair of goggles over his eyes; the familiarity of that half-hearted taunt felt like an invigorating breath of air, and somehow, Rin knew that Haruka would know exactly what he meant when he replied:

"...I want to annihilate them."

From the corner of his eye he saw Haruka stifle a wry smile.

"Alright."

 

 

 

On one hand, Rin ought to have been glad his plan worked.

Afterwards, he could split half the junior group into those whose faces were emblazoned with flabbergasted disbelief, and to those who took two steps backwards in a nervous display of _oh shit oh shit oh shit_ personified. (It didn't bother Rin that when one of the kids whispered _is that other guy human? He's not a yokai, is he?_ he knew they were talking about Haruka, because in the weirdest way it merely made him proud.)

On the other hand, these small accomplishments were not enough to disguise the irony that not only did his plan work, but it worked too well.

Looking back on their life together, it was no secret that Haruka had always been the one person capable of bringing out Rin's full abilities. That much was a given – even when Rin had spent agonizing years to admit so much to himself. After all, the two of them had always _felt_ one another in the water; the tiniest of ripples and the change in energy had passed through them both in an unspoken agreement, and in the past months Rin had thought he had finally come to accept this, once he had realized Haruka agreed.

Yet on that day, once his arms broke the surface of the water and the roar in his ears left him hanging on the intuition that had always sealed away everything else, Rin realized something _had_ changed; the thrill, the adrenaline, the surge of unbound spirit hit him with an intensity he had never imagined possible, as though somewhere in these past twenty-four hours a switch in his brain had gone off – the switch that had been holding back the true depth of his potential.

_It was never what he gave you, but_

_what the two of you gave to one another_

_(and now you finally have nothing left to hide)_

Was it naïve for Rin to think that the intensity of his emotions would not eventually flood over to the one thing he and Haruka had always shared on a near primal level? Perhaps. But it would have left anyone speechless to experience the sudden, undisputable synchronicity that passed between their hearts now that both of them _knew_.

The fact that they both hit finish at the exact same time did not matter; Rin had always known they would. What did matter was that it was far too easy (frighteningly easy) to get carried away, to forget that the world around them still existed.

Because it made Rin almost forget about himself, momentarily, in the haze of swallowing down chlorine and laughter spilling from his lips, and when his arm yanked Haruka towards him by the elastic of his goggles, only a split second knee-jerk reaction brought him to a halt.

Consider this: he had never wanted to kiss Haruka so badly in his life.

Consider this: nearly forty curious spectators also anticipated his every move.

Rin's mind went blank, but only for a moment.

(A single thought soon surfaced in its wake, as sincere as it was crude, summarizing everything he had tried to put into words all afternoon.)

_I'm_

_fucked_

 

 

 

He didn't mean for the rest of the practice to pass in a daze.

It just happened.

Rin could see the slight frown on Haruka's face when he offered the Iwatobi team a hasty goodbye, on the pretense of having to run more errands. In Rin's defense, it wasn't like there was some kind of protocol to follow; it wasn't as though he could publically say or do anything that would so much as indicate the necessity of one anyway – especially given what had nearly transpired after their race.

_And that's exactly what's driving you nuts right now._

Feelings, hopes, expectations – whether they be his, Haruka's, or the world that surrounded them, everything in Rin's mind was a chaos. If anything, practice today had made one thing excruciatingly clear: if he had thought it was going to be easy, fitting whatever he and Haruka had into the confines of reality, he was sorely mistaken.

Holing up in his room and pretending none of it existed sounded like a rather tempting thought right now; numbing his brain with a marathon of some ridiculous, over-the-top melodrama sounded even better. Watching someone cry about being pregnant with their long lost twin-brother's stepdad's landlord's child might make Rin feel like less of a mess.

The only obstacle in this plan was, naturally, that on the one day Nitori wasn't home, Rin also discovered he had left his own keys at his grandmother's house.

_Abso-fucking-lutely perfect._

The whole day was turning out to be absurdly hilarious, putting most contrived dramas to shame.

Perhaps a smarter, more introspective person would have seen the second train ride back to Iwatobi as a blessing in disguise; that it might give him time to think, time to take a deep breath and go over the very root of what was causing his unease. But Rin honestly didn't feel like being that person right now; instead, he lifted up his headphones, closed his eyes, and allowed the music to numb his thoughts until the right stop.

He didn't even need to wait for the announcement to know when to get up, for all the mornings he had subconsciously gauged the exact time between these two stations. Heading into the opposite direction from Haruka's house felt weird, though; both paths he knew by heart, but only one he was always looking forward to with hope.

_So many things you still keep hidden away, refusing to face them head on_

No, that wasn't–– he didn't need to start thinking about all the potential things to pity himself over, just because the rollercoaster of his emotions had currently taken a dive. One of these days he might come back and visit the ghosts of his childhood, but today it was the future he was concerned about. (Again, a more introspective person might have made a connection between the two nonetheless, but Rin was still not that person.)

"Mom? Are you here? I forgot my––"

He came to an abrupt pause. The front door had been unlocked; Rin was correct in assuming he would find his mother tending to the garden at the back. Still, when he stepped through the house and caught her face beyond the silhouette, something about the sight took him aback.

The sun had drawn dark patterns on her skin where the gardening gloves left her arms bare, and her thoughtful expression exposed all the wrinkles that the smiles of last night had hidden away. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that with every year he aged, she had grown older too; so easy to forget that she, also, was only human.

(The five hundred layers of confusion and uncertainty welling up within Rin softly squeezed in one more.

_I_

_should have visited sooner_ )

But the scene broke the second his mother turned her head; ten years vanished off her face once that mouth curled upwards in a delighted smile. "Oh, welcome back! I wasn't expecting you to visit so soon."

Momentarily lost for words, Rin cleared his head with a swift shake. "Sorry, I'm just–– I can't stay for long, I just forgot some of my things. I have to go back soon."

His mother nodded, rising to her feet. Brushing off the worst of the dirt on her lap, she pulled off the gardening gloves and nodded towards the living room. "If you're talking about your keys, they're on the table over there. I figured they were either yours or Gou's, but she's not back yet."

"She's staying over again?" Rin asked, absent-mindedly, as he pocketed the keys; the sliding door let out a rattle after his mother followed him inside.

"She usually keeps me company during the Summer months. We go back home at the end of the Summer break. I think she likes it here."

She paused, briefly, then looked up at Rin with something hesitant in her eyes.

It only took that split second uncertainty for Rin to know what whatever followed, it would have nothing to do with Gou.

"Rin, I... You know the last thing I have ever wanted to do was pry into your matters, but..."

She took a deep breath; as though wanting a moment to gather her thoughts, she then kneeled by the table.

Rin blinked, but did not move away.

"...Rin, you've always been so independent and headstrong," his mother began anew, and the tone of her voice was unmistakable in its wistfulness. "––Your sister and you both are, and for that I feel blessed. Still most mothers in my place, most mothers would not have let you get away with everything you did – they would have said you were too young to choose for yourself, they would not have trusted you to know what you wanted, and I..."

She shook her head. "No, I won't lie, going back I probably would re-think letting you live in this house alone for months, but I want you to know this: not once have I regretted letting you live your life."

Rin did not know if he was meant to respond, so he kept quiet, waiting for his mother to continue. It sounded like the words were tumbling out in an intertwined stream of thoughts she had mulled over for a long time, caught in a moment she finally saw herself at liberty to seize.

"I know you have had your reasons," she breathed out eventually, "And you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. But in return for the trust I have placed in you, what I wish is that... What I hope is that, at the very least, you wouldn't feel like you have to keep things from me. That you'll trust me to trust you to make the choices that need to be made. That you... that you simply let me be a part of your life."

"Mom," Rin couldn't help the slowly seeping dread from speaking on his behalf, "...What are you talking about?"

His mother hesitated, again; he could have sworn the expression on her face suddenly became... almost sheepish?

"I... I overheard your sister, on the phone last night. After you left." When she glanced up at him, Rin recognized that look at once; the curiosity, mischievousness, stifled excitement – not a shred of doubt remained where Gou had inherited hers.

"You could have told me about this Haruka, you know."

Alright, so.

All the ways Rin had lamented the absurdity of life –pitying himself for everything karma seemed to be throwing his way today–, this thing here?

No.

No no no no.

No no no no no no no.

Wasn't happening.

No.

(No no no no no no no––)

"She's Gou's senpai, isn't she? Your girlfriend."

While parts of Rin's cognitive systems were still on a highway to hell, through the daze he did register those specific words; and as soon as they connected with his brain, Rin honestly couldn't tell whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

"Uh," was all he could respond, "Uuuhhhh. Uh."

She gave him a light frown, until her face cleared up with something akin to understanding. "Ah... I know what you're probably thinking. That you're too young? To date anyone..." She let out a little laugh. "Yes, in some cases I would agree with that, but..."

Taking in a deep breath, the genuine affection in her expression was tangible enough to hurt.

"I just don't want you to be alone anymore, Rin."

It hurt, too; when Rin swallowed, when he held his mother's gaze.

It hurt the most when he simply nodded, and said nothing.

(And it was here that he probably knew;

that what had upset him the most throughout the day were not the reactions of others he had anticipated with dread, or the moment of having to confront reality and how it might change everything;

but that there was but one person who had run away from all those opportunities to find out; one person who hadn't even dared to prove others wrong; one person who had been unable to stand up for the one thing that mattered to him more than anything else in the world, and that person, well

was him)

 

 

 

On the journey back to school, Rin could tell there was no point in drowning out the question he had been doing his best to avoid asking himself all day.

_Would any of this have mattered, if Haruka really had been a girl?_

...The answer, in all its honesty, was yes and no.

Of course Rin wasn't stupid enough to think it didn't matter at all; he was by far old enough to know how the real world worked, and that life was not something designed to adapt to your wishes simply because you willed it so. After all, it wasn't his fault others might not understand; by trying to oppose this, he might just make things harder on everyone. Wasn't he merely sensible, trying to adapt around this fact?

How very noble of him.

Also, a lie.

Because it had never mattered to _him_ , and therein lay the issue; not once had Rin ever stopped to think of Haruka as anything other than Haruka, and so his first instinct of running away could not have been born out of any potential disapproval from society – but the fear of having to own up to his feelings in the first place.

He'd thought he had conquered this, surely; but this time he knew he had been naïve.

(He may have wasted all that time on second guessing, created an art of senseless back-and-forth, felt triumphant once his instincts no longer screamed at him to hide; yet all of that had always been Rin, trying to overcome himself, to allow these feelings to exist at all.)

_Just because you've fought yourself for it, doesn't mean you're still not gonna have to fight the world for it_

_doesn't mean you won't have to fight the world for him_

One step forward, two steps back.

Why did that sound like the name of his upcoming autobiography?

Then again, trying to unconsciously sabotage your own life to this degree required effort; maybe instead of an autobiography, what Rin deserved was a goddamn medal. The thought of having an acceptance speech on a platform crossed Rin's mind as he turned the key, but also subsequently vanished from his head once he opened the door.

Right there, on his bed, reading through one of his geography books, sat Haruka.

"What the fuck?" were the words that left Rin on reflex.

As Haruka lifted his chin, he appeared completely calm. "Welcome back."

"H, how–– how did––" Rin threw his bag on the ground, closing the door as quickly as he could while trying to stammer out a semi-legitimate sentence, "How the hell did you––"

Instead of a verbal response, Haruka calmly held up an electronic pass. Rin failed to understand the implication until a specific memory of something Gou had once said struck him. Of course; the individual keycard Haruka had received from the headmaster at the beginning of Summer break.

_Shit, he really does think ahead._

Either way, that only explained half the mystery.

"Did you break into my dorm room?" Rin asked, exasperated.

(Every time he thought today could not plummet his consciousness into more of a turmoil, somehow, something happened that proved him wrong. If the night did not end with were-mackerels running down the hallway singing along to the theme song of One Piece, he would be awfully disappointed.)

"I didn't," Haruka replied, still as calm as ever. "I asked one of the maintenance people to let me in."

 _Why the hell didn't I do that?!_ Rin couldn't help but inwardly groan; letting out a deep breath, he sat down next to Haruka, trying to piece his mind together.

"Why the hell are you here, though?"

Finally, Haruka's expression changed, but only just; he lifted a brow, as if to respond, _are you serious?_

"We didn't get to swim together today."

If before Rin had felt like laughing or crying, now he sort of wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. Still, he couldn't resist playing along, as much as he already knew the outcome. "We kind of did, though."

Haruka's brows scrunched up, in that adorably predictable way whenever Rin questioned the natural state of what Haruka found relevant or irrelevant. "That doesn't count."

Rin felt his mouth pull into a smile, a split second before he heard himself laugh.

(God, it was so infuriating how easily Haruka could make him feel better just by being his stupid, dork of a self, but he probably ought to learn how to treasure it all the same.)

Rin leaned up back to his feet, then held out a hand.

"Come on. Let's go swim, then."

 

 

 

In a way, maybe there was something almost exciting about it – sneaking past the guards, making as little sound as possible, trying not to burst out laughing while they waited for the janitor to finish tidying up. During the Summer the pools still closed early, so even though it was barely 8 pm, to Rin it felt like they were sneaking in at midnight.

Or maybe it was better this way; the golden reflection of a late sunset over the water seemed beautiful in a way he hadn't seen in a long time. Listening to the silence of the hall amplifying each sound breath that passed his lips, Rin could certainly understand why Haruka had been so adamant about going back.

In less than an hour though, Rin found it far easier to just... sit there, at the edge, watching Haruka swim. Once more it was as though he had done this before, at a time when staring so openly might have felt too revealing. It seemed like a reminder of all the things Rin liked so much about _now_ , as opposed to _then_ , though; the fact that he didn't have to pretend, not to himself any more than to Haruka, that there was any other place in the world he'd rather be.

He didn't want to pretend to anyone else either, though.

So why was it so hard not to?

With a light wave of his hand he beckoned at Haruka, who promptly climbed up to sit down by his side. Haruka rained him with droplets, again; it triggered in Rin a light snort, and he used the opportunity to throw his track jacket at Haruka.

"You've been in for so long you're gonna get cold," he noted, before quickly adding as if to save face, "...Plus you're all wet, and that's annoying."

Haruka shrugged, and simply pulled the jacket on; it was sort of funny to see him in Samezuka colours, but Rin couldn't exactly say he opposed to the sight. For a moment afterwards, neither said anything.

At the back of his mind, Rin could have almost sworn he heard an echo of a life that seemed so long ago.

_...Do you think we could be a team again? ...You, and I._

But they weren't the words prompted out of Haruka now; no, Haruka said nothing at all, not until he suddenly leaned sideways and came to rest his head on the collarbone of Rin's chest.

(The heat of his skin was familiar and unexpected, all at once; and when Haruka spoke, his breath tickled Rin's shoulder and made him swallow on reflex.)

"...I was waiting to do that. Today."

Rin drew in a deep breath.

Why did he keep going around in circles, time and time again, when the answers were always right there waiting for him right under his nose?

(Whatever he did, however crazy and senseless life might seem, one thing he would always know for certain:

 _fighting for him has always been worth it_ )

Admitting this... made Rin feel lighter, in many ways; light enough not to feel self-conscious when he lifted his hand and buried his fingers in Haruka's hair, letting the moment breathe with no haste.

He could feel Haruka smiling into his collarbone, and somehow that gave him the courage to go on.

"Listen... you know how I said... you know, last night, about how I... want to be with you?"

Haruka's response was a tiny nod.

Rin knew to expect it, yet it still felt bizarre that Haruka trusted him this much; in his position, Rin probably would have already thought up a thousand nightmare scenarios that might have followed those words, but Haruka merely waited for him to go on.

_You're ridiculous and you're everything and I hate myself for what I'm going to say_

Rin let out a deep breath. "...Just... you do realize that this might be what being together is going to be like, right...?" He paused, bit down on his lip, then went on. "...Having to downplay it. Having to take time out when everyone else has gone ahead. Having to act like it doesn't matter when... it really, really does. And I just..."

He hesitated, but knew he had to voice his doubts.

"I need to know if it's really what you want."

Rin wasn't entirely sure what kind of reaction he was anticipating, but he let out a tiny start when Haruka abruptly pulled back. The surprise never had time to blossom into full paranoia, though, once Haruka made no effort to actually move away; instead, his hand hastened around Rin's wrist. Before Rin knew what was happening, Haruka had guided his hand past the jacket until it rested it on the left side of his chest.

Beneath his palm, Rin realized he could feel the pulse of Haruka's heart, loud enough to touch.

"This is your fault," Haruka spoke, voice never letting on even a trace of the distress that was his heartbeat, although Rin could detect a twinge of frustration in it, "...That's all I know. It's got nothing to do with other people. Just you."

It didn't occur to Rin until long later that technically, Haruka never answered his question. Technically, he probably didn't need to. Because it was a question Rin had spoken as much to himself, ultimately finding his answer sometime around the moment he realized he cared less about the response and more about finally gaining an excuse to kiss Haruka.

(Because he'd choose the latter, every time; even with the unintentional hilarity of Haruka accidentally elbowing him in the stomach once the sudden advance caught him unaware. And Rin might have let out a hissed _god damn it, Haru_ , to which Haruka possibly offered an uncharacteristically apology, but this wasn't as important as how focused Haruka grew once Rin's hand drew in the side of his face.)

No, nothing about them was a storybook tale; it wasn't supposed to be.

It was alright for him to change. He knew Haruka was changing, too.

He could tell that change, after all, through each concentrated effort that Haruka put into following his pace. The first few times they had kissed, both of them had been running more or less on haphazard intuition and nerves; Rin could hardly call himself much more experienced on that front –drunken upperclassmen or people yelling _Kiss me, I'm Irish!_ most certainly did not count– but he liked to think that sooner or later his technical finesse would catch up with theoretical knowledge, and then, well...

It felt curious, as much as it felt exciting, to pinpoint the moment where all of this started to _work_ ; the point where Rin realized he could reach in further, the increased pressure of his lips not triggering in Haruka an instinct to lean away. Instead of swaying according to whatever they assumed the other one wanted, both seemed to have finally picked up on the simple fact that their goals were exactly the same.

Funny, how that was; in life, in companionship, in... love?

Ah, but then... who could afford such lofty thoughts, especially once Haruka did what Rin had once done entirely on accident, and unashamedly snaked past their lips with his tongue. As opposed to another jolt of surprise, though, what Rin felt was a low shudder at the base of his spine, resonating through their skin as Haruka's grip on his wrist grew tighter.

(It didn't mean Rin didn't think, if only for a passing second, that he was going to faint once Haruka's tongue flicked against his own; but that light-headedness also came with a treacherous ability to dull the self-conscious screaming of his nerves, because it felt far easier to focus on the repeated flip of his stomach as Haruka grew more confident, deepening the kiss with zero pretense of coyness after being deprived of Rin's presence all day.)

Rin could have sworn his entire skin was about to spontaneously burst in flames; this should have been enough warning in and of itself, but it took him until a far more familiar sensation at the pit of his stomach realize he had to pull back while he still had the chance.

 _Shit shit shit shit shit_ ––

So yeah, it was kind of hilarious that if life was willing to make one concession towards his benefit today, it was to spare Rin from the embarrassment of physical arousal. Not that Rin didn't actively work to ensure this was the case – abruptly forcing his thoughts towards his entire swim team dressed up as the cast of Pretty Cure would have been enough to kill anyone's erection.

(Okay, maybe not _everyone's_ , but–– hey, why was this still an issue?! He really didn't need to dwell on that mental image for longer than necessary.)

It would have been better, had Haruka looked disgruntled once Rin pushed him back at an arm's length; at least that way Rin could have relied on feigned annoyance to counter him with. Instead, it took one glance to understand from Haruka's dumbfounded expression that his mind was as blank as Rin's own.

(With the last flecks of the sunset glinting off his gaze, lips swollen and parted while his breath came out in fragments, Rin kind of wanted to drown Haruka in the pool for the sheer frustration of how long that expression would haunt him in his dreams.)

 _I hate you more than anyone I've ever hated in my life_ , Rin wanted to say, but what came out instead was, "We... should probably head back."

(The way Haruka instinctively touched his lips before returning the sentiment with a nod, well, that may have come to haunt Rin too.)

 

 

 

"For such an esteemed academy, Samezuka has very uncomfortable beds."

"If you don't like it, you're welcome to go home."

"You'd get expelled if I got caught."

"...That sure as hell didn't stop you before."

"I'm just trying to be considerate."

"If you were really considerate of me, you'd stop trying to knee me in the groin."

"It's a very narrow bed."

"And uncomfortable."

"And esteemed."

"And–– Haru, please stop talking."

He could have sworn Haruka was laughing against his chest, that tiny, private laugh of his that drove Rin crazy in more ways than one; but he didn't mind so much, not with the way he could smile into Haruka's hair without getting caught, either. (Hey, just because he didn't need to hide these things from Haruka anymore, didn't mean he didn't still sometimes want to.)

Much of their trivial argument wasn't true, anyway. Sure, the beds weren't particularly comfortable nor wide, but there had never been any question that Haruka had fit against him an almost effortless ease; Rin had noticed, surely, on the first night Haruka had fallen asleep in his arms, and it was for that very reason that sleeping alone had paled in comparison since.

It could have been cripplingly awkward to sleep in such close proximity after what almost transpired earlier, but Haruka had been on the brink of falling asleep on his feet for the past twenty minutes. Rin had forced him to eat a sandwich from one of the vending machines, and the sudden intake of carbs seemed to be a greater sedative than punching him in the face.

(He couldn't say whether this made him disappointed or relieved; today had already been a whirlwind of confusing emotions, and while Rin knew sooner or later they were bound to run into the reality of what being together meant in every aspect of the word, right now... he felt it was enough, just being close like this, knowing that when he opened his eyes in the morning Haruka would still be there.)

Once more he was glad Haruka couldn't see his face.

"Stop smiling into my hair," came a sleepy murmur, though, which quickly turned into a yelp once Rin pulled at the sensitive strands at the nape of Haruka's neck.

"...We should go visit mom before the end of the Summer break," Rin heard himself say, then; and he didn't know where the thought suddenly emerged from, but the words came out light, and he was surprised at how much he genuinely meant them.

Haruka shuffled a little.

(When he did, his chest pressed closer against Rin's; it made something flicker in his spine again, but Rin willed himself patient.)

Haruka's voice was still sleepy, but contained absolutely no indifference or dissent.

"Sure."

 

 

 

Thing is, when we open ourselves up to love, it is only ever the beginning.

What we do with that chance is entirely up in the air.

It does not make things any easier overnight; it does not mean we stop being afraid, or lost, or vulnerable in ways we never even imagined possible.

But what it does do is open up the possibility that perhaps, one day things might be.

Easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rin, always having to suffer the brunt of the self-consciousness stick. But life will get easier. So will me writing chapters that actually feature the dokis I am long overdue. It could be sooner than you think.
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: This is not what Nitori Aiichirou signed up for.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. What to say. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun writing a chapter of this story, which could possibly be either a very Good thing or a very Bad thing. Either way, it's a rather Ironic thing, because this chapter also marks an indefinite hiatus for the story - this most definitely doesn't mean I'm anywhere near done with it, but simply taking some time off to finish multiple chapters before I publish them. If it takes a while for WW to update again, therefore, you know why.
> 
> Maybe that's why this chapter exploded in word count.
> 
> Or maybe it's because we finally get the dokis I promised a long time ago.
> 
> Please note that the rating has changed, and proceed accordingly.
> 
> (Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far; I promise when this story next updates, it will be better in every conceivable way.)
> 
> Disclaimer: my usual beta was busy, so there might still be some typos / brainfarts in the text in spite of me going over it twice; I will do my best to edit these out as quickly as possible when applicable.

 

 

For minutes, all he could do was stare.

Right beneath Rin's ear, at the dip where his jaw line curved from his neck, strands of red hair trickled haphazardly across a patch of skin.

Haruka's languid gaze might have landed on it on accident, the moment he woke up nestled somewhere in the groove of Rin's shoulder. For his eyes to remain there for what felt like an eternity, well it could have been an accident, too; he couldn't tell what held him transfixed to that tiny area of bare skin, but he also knew it had happened before.

He had kept staring last night, after all; the way Rin pushed his hair behind his ear, the way his long fingers gently brushed over that soft curve with an absent-minded graze, the way Rin didn't even–– notice? that it was there.

Because Haruka had noticed.

He'd noticed, and kept staring, and now he was staring again; it was easier this time, though, with Rin not interfering every five seconds to turn his head. No, he... rather enjoyed Rin asleep and oblivious to the world for once – on the mornings before, he had woken up to Rin already awake, but now...

(It reminded him of something he couldn't quite put his finger on, like a memory of a time long gone; and he might have been able to dwell on that, too, had it not been for the tiniest voice of urgency somewhere at the back of his mind distracting Haruka with that infuriatingly exposed part of Rin's neck.)

Haruka drew in a deep breath.

There was a light rustle where the sheets gave way to his weight. He could feel an even lighter skip of his heart as he reached forward, until something sharp yet welcome shot across his chest at the moment where he leaned into the underside of Rin's jaw.

Half a second before Haruka's lips found Rin's neck, though, he heard a timid voice.

"...Um."

The halt that pulled Haruka back felt more conscious than it did morbid; his eyes flicked up at Rin, who still remained blissfully asleep with an arm splayed over his face. No, the voice clearly did not belong to Rin in the first place, which Haruka had _known_ ; with this newfound curiosity he leaned up, then turned his head.

On a chair next to the worktable sat Nitori, posture straight, hands knotted together over his knees.

Haruka gave a light frown.

"Good morning," he said.

"...Good morning, Nan–– Haruka-senpai," Nitori echoed; his expression remained oddly tense, and Haruka's frown turned into a lift of his brow.

For a while, neither one of them said anything.

Finally, Haruka turned to roll right back over to bed.

Once Nitori realized what was about to happen, his shoulders twitched in abrupt panic. "Ha–– sorry, I–– do you think I could talk to Rin-senpai?" he chimed in, grimacing in apology before biting down on his lip. "Real quick. I promise."

Again, Haruka came to a halt. To say he didn't feel mildly inconvenienced would have been a lie –that patch of bare skin on Rin's neck was still right there, and he was far more predisposed to return to it than have this strange discussion with Nitori–, but the request did not strike him as completely unfair. If nothing else, Nitori had been courteous enough to wait patiently; Haruka could afford to wait a little while longer too.

With a shrug, he burrowed his head closer to Rin's ear and gave his right shoulder a light shove.

"...Rin. Wake up. Nitori wants to talk to you."

This only triggered a mumbled response. When Haruka repeated his words, Rin pushed an arm towards Haruka's nose. "Mmnoh," he could hear Rin mutter, lost in another rustle of the sheets once Rin rolled over and clumsily latched his face into Haruka's clavicle, "Nhe doesn't."

An unexpected warmth trailed Haruka's fingertips as he brushed back the hair on Rin's face. "You shouldn't make him wait. I think he's been sitting there for a while."

To be perfectly honest, watching the comprehension finally connect with Rin's brain was nothing short of a thing of beauty: it started with his shoulders, how they locked in place; how the fabric of his top stretched across his back; how his arms tensed on both sides of Haruka's chest. Against his collarbone, Haruka could literally feel the brush of Rin's lashes where his eyes flicked open.

When Rin turned his head, he did so with the finesse of an outdated android.

What happened next, now that wasn't exactly beautiful as it was merely comical; because the sight of Nitori made Rin's entire frame twitch on reflex like a bolt of lightning through his spine, and the pure vigor of that shock was enough to bounce Haruka out of bed.

Landing with a thud, Haruka spent the next few minutes rubbing at the sore spot on his elbow. Listening to Rin screaming in Nitori's face about privacy and knocking and something that sounded an awful lot like threatening to hoist Nitori's diary up a flagpole, Haruka quickly hoped he could rub his impending headache instead. Rin mouthing off for too long always made him irate, but before Haruka could interject, Nitori's expression twisted with a look of conflict.

"It's my room too," Nitori said, and for a moment Haruka could have sworn he sounded almost defiant.

Rin's eyes still narrowed enough to make Nitori wince. Fortunately, it was clearly not the time for his young, innocent soul to enter the afterlife, though, since the subsequent moment was broken by an abrupt knock at the door.

Now, from what Haruka could assess, three things happened in succession:

One, Rin's head snapped towards the door, his face a mask of sudden horror. No words were exchanged, just a nonverbal _I will kill you if you move,_ which seemed to leave Nitori equal parts perplexed and overwhelmed.

Two, Haruka's head turned in Rin's direction, his face a mirror of silent frustration; no words passed between the two of them either, and Nitori let out an instinctive whimper the second he realized what that expression meant.

Three, Rin almost brought down the entire bunk bed trying to scramble after Haruka before he opened the door.

Afterwards, Haruka stood there taking in the mandatory three to four seconds of confusion clouding over Mikoshiba's face.

"Hello," he said.

"...Hello," Mikoshiba replied, even further bewilderment creeping in once he realized Haruka was standing before him in a t-shirt and shorts; it quickly turned into suspicion once he stepped inside, witnessing a room in chaos, a paralyzed Nitori, and Rin, who effectively seemed to be in the process of strangling himself with a bed sheet.

"...I heard shouting and wondered if everything was alright," Mikoshiba went on calmly, addressing Nitori and Rin; he then turned back to Haruka, and pointed at him with a tiny dance of his fingers. "...But I'm not sure what _you_ are doing here, per se?"

His voice sounded less foreboding and more amused, but it did little to dispel Rin's exasperation. A quick pang of regret shot through Haruka; he was so used to acting on instinct that he had completely forgotten what the two of them had talked about last night. The tension in Rin's jaw was nothing if not a painful reminder that Haruka had not necessarily thought this all the way through.

(Whatever this–– thing with Rin and other people's opinions was all about, Haruka had on some level taken it for granted that he had made his own point clear. Still, that didn't mean it was alright for him to decide that for Rin, or push him on the spot if he wasn't ready yet, just because Haruka couldn't personally understand what made it such a big deal.)

_but if it's a big deal for him, then_

_it's a big deal for you_

He looked at Rin, then at Mikoshiba, and let out a tiny cough.

With a single, artificial movement he leaned over to Nitori, and softly placed an arm around his shoulder.

"...Sorry," Haruka said, although he wasn't sure who he was directing that apology towards, "I'm... actually here with Nitori."

In the short time he had known (or known of the existence of) Nitori, Haruka had witnessed a great number of ways the kid could express mortification; it should not have been a surprise, then, that Nitori's eyes spread wide enough to make Haruka think he was either going to pass out or bust through the window. Before he ever made it that far, though, Rin sprung to his feet and yanked Haruka by the arm with enough vigor to pull it out of its socket.

"No you're fucking not!"

There was no trace of embarrassment in his voice, which rendered Haruka quiet with surprise. When Rin turned to face Mikoshiba head on, he took a deep breath, but the split second hesitation in his eyes quickly morphed into resolve.

"Captain, Haru's... he's with me. If you need to reprimand anyone, you should leave Nitori out of it. He has nothing to do with this."

Mikoshiba's gaze flicked over to Nitori, who was slowly breaking through his paralysis; he nodded, twisting his hands together.

"I... I swear I didn't know," Nitori blurted out in a panic, then hastily backpedaled, "I mean, sure, everyone knows Rin-senpai's crazy about Nana–– Haruka-senpai, but––"

Rin hardly needed physical violence to make Nitori yelp and swallow down his tongue; a single deathly glare was enough to make him take a step back in swift silence.

Oblivious to this on purpose, Mikoshiba drew in a deep breath, then crossed his arms across his chest. The brow he lifted was in sync with the way his mouth twisted with something akin to _what am I going to do with you,_ as opposed to any genuine dissent.

"Look," he finally breathed out, "Nothing makes me more delighted than knowing Matsuoka's finally sorted out whichever angsty break up the two of you had in the past... No, honest!" He shook his head, then sighed again, "But the fact of the matter is... you're also breaking roughly fourteen different school policies, starting from unauthorized trespassing at night."

("I have a pass," Haruka couldn't help but respond at which Rin let out an equally instinctive "Fuck you and your stupid pass", but Mikoshiba quickly waved them both silent.)

"However," he went on, "What the two of you _also_ broke was the school record for 100 m freestyle yesterday, and I'm nothing if not a man of reason; I'm pretty sure I can put two and two together." The smile on his lips curled with unmistakable mischievousness as he went on. "In other words, if doing... whatever you want to call this thing, is going to help Matsuoka help _me_ turn my third year into an unparalleled legacy at Samezuka, then I can't say it's in my best interests to interfere."

Nonetheless, his smile soon softened. "Just... try and not let the faculty catch you. If everyone was sneaking in their girlfriends and boyfriends, all hell would break loose."

(With that he nodded, and Rin nodded, and Haruka nodded. Even Nitori nodded; there was a lot of nodding around, but Haruka wasn't sure they all knew what they were nodding at.)

"Alright, I'll be back sometime later to discuss Autumn's schedule," Mikoshiba said, scratching the back of his head as he courteously bowed out of the room; before he passed through the doorway, he added: "By the time I catch you again, I hope this room is less of a mess and Nanase is wearing more clothes. Or at least a shirt that doesn't feature sealife that will haunt me in my nightmares."

After he was gone, Nitori lifted a hand on his chest, as though something was about to leap out of it. Seeing him so perplexed, Haruka was surprised to realize he actually felt kind of... sorry that they had sprung this on him unannounced. Not only had Haruka never stopped to consider that he should consult Nitori about crashing their dorm, he hadn't given the kid a chance to decide whether he felt like being part of Haruka's impromptu plan to save Rin's reputation, either. And hey, if there was someone in the world who knew how troublesome becoming involved in other people's business was, well...

(Somewhere at the back of his mind Haruka could literally hear Makoto's voice, a low, light laughter over how Haruka was growing more and more aware of other people's emotions with each day that passed by, but he brushed the thought off before it had chance to overwhelm him.)

Stepping up, Haruka tried to coax as much empathy into his voice as possible once he addressed Nitori anew.

"I'm sorry I pretended we were together," he said, and awkwardly patted Nitori on the back. "I'm... sure you'd have made a good boyfriend to me."

Strange, wasn't it, how this only made Nitori wheeze in louder.

Meanwhile, Rin let out a strangely garbled choke before kicking Haruka in the shin; his face was radiantly scarlet, and it felt like he pushed through his following words with sheer conviction alone. "Can you stop being such a weirdo?! And put some goddamn clothes on before I throw both of you out!"

Haruka lifted a brow, as though to say, _And you have room to talk because...?_ while Nitori kept eyeing back and forth between them like a game of ancient ping pong. By the time Haruka finally let out a frustrated grunt and grabbed hold of the nearest article of clothing –namely, the same Samezuka jacket Rin had thrown on him last night– Nitori had already inched his way towards the door.

"I'm... gonna go now," he said, hesitant, "For an hour. Or two. Or forever. But––" he paused, then swallowed, "...We should probably talk about whether this is going to... you know, become a frequent thing. Because I think I should be consulted if it does, just on the off chance that I might catch you guys having––"

The last of his words were cut off in a wail as Rin cried out "Alright, that's _it_ ," flung the door wide open and ousted Nitori with a single, well-placed kick on the ass.

Once Rin was done slamming the door, he took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

Haruka tilted his head. "...Well, that didn't go so bad."

Rin returned the sentiment by groaning like some kind of dying animal; he flung himself back on the bed, grabbed a wayward pillow, and pretended to smother himself with it. It was admirable that through it all, he was still capable of snarling with full precision, "I hope you get hit by a speeding bus, Nanase."

There was familiarity to that retort, though, like a desperate invitation; Haruka wasn't sure whether Rin was clinging onto the argument for the sake of distracting Haruka or himself, but it had always proved almost physically impossible for Haruka not to take the bait anyway.

He sat down next to Rin, leaning over to grab one wrist still firmly clutched on the pillow. "Strong words for someone 'everyone knows is crazy about me'."

Rin's grip came loose in an instant; the words had clearly caught him off guard, but when he threw a glare at Haruka, it was filled with combativeness rather than the violent embarrassment Haruka had anticipated.

"Strong words for someone who just tried to make Nitori their boyfriend," Rin snarled, and Haruka had to literally resist rolling his eyes.

Instead, he seized Rin's other wrist to yank him upright; the action had come to him on instinct, like literally everything else he did these days, but up close the dead-pan taunt Haruka had meant to dish out suddenly came out a lot lower than he had intended.

"...I didn't know I needed another one."

Something unreadable sparked in Rin's expression, like a split moment dread, hesitation, and silent hope in one; Haruka couldn't tell if Rin had noticed the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat, but there was just the slightest crack in Rin's voice when he forced on an aloof facade in return:

"...I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"He's a complete idiot, you two would really get along," Haruka muttered, only then realizing he was literally speaking the words against Rin's lips.

There was a light tickle where Rin's breath trickled over his in a light groan. "...You know, this is pretty disgusting."

"Yes," Haruka echoed, "It is."

Which was why, really, the only sensible solution was to stop talking; Haruka was fairly certain he'd never had more incentive to, anyway, compared to how spontaneously Rin kissed him with all the pent up energy from this morning's nonsensical intervention. Or was it him? Haruka couldn't say; he felt his spine arch on reflex, pushing into the kiss, which shifted Rin's balance enough to land him on his back.

It never occurred to Haruka that he ought to let go of Rin's wrists; it only seemed natural to follow once Rin toppled over, natural for Haruka to pull his knees up and lift them around Rin's hips; natural, even, when he did not break the kiss until both of their arms were stretched out over Rin's head on the bed.

It was at that point Rin pushed up his chin, breathed in fragments, and stared up at Haruka.

"Wh, uh, you're––" is what he managed between Haruka remembering the way Rin had cut him off last night at the poolside, and remembering that curve beneath his ear that Haruka had been staring at since forever; something about both memories struck him with an unexpected sense of urgency, like any moment now, Rin would do what he always did, and pull back, pull away, pull––

_not this time, though_

"Ah, I––"

(That's as far as Rin got before Haruka's lips found his neck, and the sheer surprise was enough to shift against Haruka; an unintentional shove of his knee pushed at the back of Haruka's thigh, and it nestled him deeper into Rin's shoulder. A sound hitched in Rin's throat, trembling beneath Haruka's lips, only to escape as a legitimate gasp when he felt Haruka's tongue on his skin instead.)

The next thing he knew, Haruka found himself pushed onto Rin's lap, with Rin wriggling out his grip; chanting something that vaguely resembled _Okayokayokayokayokay_ Rin reached upright, locking Haruka's arms at his sides.

"Don't you think––" Rin started, struggling to string the words together while trying to bury his flushed face in Haruka's chest, "Shouldn't we–– You know–– Talk? About this first."

Haruka swallowed down an indignant sound of frustration, and took a deep breath. "...Sure," he said, placing his forehead against Rin's, "...Let's talk."

Rin veered backwards until his head was at an angle to stare at Haruka straight on.

"So..." he said.

"....So..." Haruka repeated.

Rin scratched the back of his head. "Uh...."

Haruka frowned, waiting for him to continue.

"....Well, shit," Rin finally swore under his breath, and with a swift twist of his hips, knocked Haruka over to his side before burying his hands in Haruka's hair.

"Good talk," Haruka couldn't help quipping as he hooked a knee around Rin's; the mild glare in Rin's inevitable response diluted into the kiss Haruka leaned into halfway, fingers digging into the soft skin of Rin's waist.

And it wasn't that Haruka didn't know what Rin _meant_ ; it wasn't as though he didn't know what _all_ of this meant, or why it left his fingertips burning when Rin finally parted his lips long enough to consciously invite Haruka in; because when his tongue found Rin's, the tentative curiosity of last night seemed but a distant echo of the unashamed heat on his skin, his breath, his heart.

Of course it... scared him, too, to understand just how little control he seemed to possess when it came to Rin; he was pretty sure the same was true of Rin, too. But the difference between him and Haruka had always been that Haruka didn't question why he felt this way, or whether it was acceptable for him to – the weight of Rin's body pressed against his own, the intensity of Rin's arm snaking into the small of his back, all of it felt strange and overwhelming but most of all _right_ ; like sinking, like drowning, like dissolving into the radiance of Rin's sun.

( _am I_

 _going crazy_ )

It could be so easy; so easy to be selfish, and chase after the voice that told him to just give in. So much of Haruka's life had led up to this point simply because he had followed his instincts, never stopping to ask himself why. But as simple as it felt to trace his fingers over the shape of Rin's abdomen, to lose the ability to breathe once Rin's laughter tickled against his ear, Haruka felt himself sober up the moment Rin drew in a sharp breath upon sensing Haruka growing harder against his thigh.

"...Sorry," Haruka breathed out; he couldn't say why it seemed almost painful, somehow, to witness Rin's abrupt hesitation, time and time again. "...See, you're not the only one who... gets this way."

Rin jerked his head back, eyes wide; whether he had assumed Haruka had noticed nothing last night, well, there was little point sparing his feelings now.

Still, the freak out never came; instead, Rin exhaled, then groaned. "...You know I've been trying to think about my grandmother for like the past five minutes for that exact reason, right?"

(Whatever brief disappointment had flashed across Haruka's chest only seconds ago now felt like blossoming into something inconspicuous and warm, and he couldn't hide a wry smile.)

Haruka tried to keep his voice even. "Wouldn't that just have the opposite effect, though?"

"Hey, hey, just because I'm okay with making out with you doesn't mean I'm mentally prepared to discuss your weird ass geriatric fantasies," Rin muttered, right before his face broke out into a helpless grin.

Fastening a hand on the nape of Haruka's neck, he also sounded oddly sheepish as he spoke. "Look, I... it's just. Different? I mean I've never... done something like this with another person."

Haruka let his arm draw tiny shapes on the side of Rin's arm, once again unable to resist the urge to speak the first thing that popped into his head. "...As opposed to doing it with yourself?"

"...Here I am, trying to confess that I'm not actually at all bothered by your hard-on," Rin tugged at Haruka's hair with an over-exaggerated sigh, "Way to ruin a romantic moment _again_ , Haru."

The snort that left Haruka caught even him by surprise; before he knew it, Rin was laughing into his hair, and the sound of his relief was contagious enough to bubble up a chuckle in Haruka's stomach. Shuffling upwards to reach Rin at eye-level, he landed a light kiss on the side of Rin's jaw.

"...It's alright," he said; _there's no hurry_ , is what his expression said, though, and in the way Rin's expression softened, Haruka was fairly confident that he could tell.

There was a funny kind of tenderness to how he reached down to kiss Haruka anew; the moment could have been all sorts of perfect, were it not also broken by an abrupt banging on the door. A sudden, startled jolt of Rin's knee missed Haruka's groin by inches.

"Hurry, hurry!" Mikoshiba's voice came booming through the door, "You didn't think I was letting you turn this into a honeymoon suite? Time to rise, shine, and get to practice, Matsuoka!"

Rin's eyes almost rolled out of their sockets in sheer frustration. As Haruka's feet hit the floor, his hands got all the way up to his shoulders before the attempt to pull off Rin's jacket came to a halt.

"What," he asked, unable to shake off the way Rin was staring right at him.

"Nothing," Rin snapped as though on reflex, and grew silent; he bit down on his lip, then glanced back at Haruka with a strange combination of shyness and smugness on his face. "No, actually... You keep that. It... it looks good on you."

Haruka lifted a curious brow; he opened his mouth to say something, but three consecutive pounds on the door rendered that response obsolete.

Quickly gathering his things (not to mention adhering to Mikoshiba's former request of additional clothing), he hovered over Rin for a moment before finally settling with a brief kiss on the top of his head.

He could feel Rin's eyes on his back, even after Mikoshiba stumbled into the room.

(On his way out of Samezuka, Haruka realized he probably ought to send Nitori a card of apology.)

 

 

 

Funny, isn't it, how easy it is to find your entire world turned upside down.

Not because anything about that world has inherently changed, no; you might still wake up in your own bed every morning, open the window and stare at that same ocean shimmering in the distance, hear the sound of your best friend calling for you at the break of each dawn.

Yet that bed, it will feel different; the ocean, it will look different; the voice of your friend, it will sound different – all because _you_ are different, because you changed, because you've kept changing ever since the moment you finally allowed love into your life.

How... disgusting, indeed; Haruka could have sworn he kept repeating that word in his head, every time his thoughts kept drifting off to Rin; it made it easier to breathe calmly in the presence of other people, when a sudden memory of Rin's arm on his back or his tongue prying open Haruka's lips would crash into his consciousness completely out of the blue.

 _Disgusting_ , he'd tell himself, _disgusting disgusting disgusting,_ until he couldn't think of anything else during the final few days of Summer break, in the hours suspended in time between nightfall and the moment Rin was done with practice.

1615 hours.

Haruka hadn't memorized them because he cared; that would have been silly, and weird.

He'd memorized them because he couldn't _not_ ; those digits became etched into his mind in ways that Rei's complaints about him losing focus or Gou's not-so-subtle sniggering didn't, because they were synonymous with Rin – synonymous with counting down the minutes till Haruka's doorbell would ring, till he'd hear Rin's lazy voice complaining about how he was starving, till Haruka could snap back his head in feigned annoyance yet kiss Rin before he'd gotten his shoes off.

It was disgusting. And sickening, and stupid and dumb – all the things Haruka had never imagined being capable of _wanting_ so much, all at once, for all the ways he knew none of it made any sense. Because everything, _everything_ felt different; he wasn't sure if it had always been this way, if he just hadn't noticed before, because all of a sudden he _couldn't stop noticing_ , and that heightened awareness was slowly driving him insane.

The charged static in his chest when Rin brushed an arm past his during dinner. The distant hum in his head when Rin said something completely trivial at the base of his ear. The way Haruka's heart felt like it was about to explode as Rin's fingers absent-mindedly rubbed at the nape of his neck, and how inhuman it felt for Haruka not to simply sink his lips and his teeth into Rin's skin whenever he did.

It felt... completely inconceivable to Haruka, after all, that there ever could have been a time when he hadn't wanted to _touch_ _Rin_ all the damn time; that there ever could have been a time when he wasn't _allowed_ to follow that impulse.

Which was why it also seemed so ironic that even though he was theoretically _allowed_ to, Haruka still felt like he also had to hold himself back for Rin's sake alone; why he'd choke down the urge, two times out of three, and only kiss Rin (push him up against a wall run fingers up his shirt trace his tongue over the underside of his jaw) when it felt like Rin was ready.

It was alright.

It was alright.

It was alright lright rithj righfy fhgftfh gfhgtfh

(It really wasn't)

Because as much as they had joked about talking about it, had half-hearted discussions about what being physically intimate might actually one day entail, Haruka had always known there was a flip side to all these years he had spent uninterested in anything and anyone, always waiting for the day when he would be reunited with the one person who had made him _feel_ the most;

and now it was here and now Rin was here and now it was all hitting Haruka square in the chest, sinking him under like a ruthless tidal wave of emotion.

Maybe he should have seen it coming.

Maybe he should have seen a lot of things coming, but thinking ahead had never been Haruka's forte; it took him a Herculean effort to imagine the repercussions of his actions, but he also knew he had no choice, lest he push too far, too soon.

 _I want you_ , is what Haruka would think of when shoving Rin away and muttering that he still smelled of chlorine;

 _I want you_ , is what Haruka would think of when Rin wrapped an arm around him from behind and called him a moron;

 _I want you_ , is what Haruka would think of when kissing Rin goodnight, watching him go, waiting for the sound of chicadas to dull the sound of his thoughts.

And the most ridiculous part of it all was that Haruka didn't even _know_ ; he couldn't really say what it was that he wanted, so much as he simply felt like he needed it the way he had always needed Rin in his life. The irony of this might have made Haruka laugh, if he wasn't also exhausted by the attempts to will himself calm, whenever Rin was stupid enough to brush his tongue against Haruka's when they kissed.

Leave it to Rin to repeatedly figure out new ways of being completely troublesome.

No, really, someone should give him an award.

All things considered, then, maybe it was a good thing that on the second to last day of their Summer break, Rin brought up visiting his mother again. The memory had already sort of slipped past Haruka's personal radar, but he saw little reason to decline. Besides, additional company meant additional incentive for keeping his thoughts occupied, since even Rin couldn't be dumb enough to get carried away in the presence of his mother.

Which was essentially why Haruka found himself diligently meeting Rin at the station on the following afternoon. The look on Rin's face was somewhat pensive once he stepped off the train, yet instantly lit up at the sight of Haruka.

(It really shouldn't have made Haruka glance away on instinct as quickly as he did.)

"Nitori thanks you for the card," Rin quipped as the two of them headed out; his voice sounded aloof, but Haruka knew better than to be fooled by it. "He says the drawing you made was great, even though he only wishes he was part machine, part human."

"Well," Haruka replied, keeping his eyes on the road, "I took some artistic liberties."

Rin barked out in laughter, clearly imagining what Haruka was imagining in his head: Nitori stomping through Tokyo in a gigantic mecha suit, tiny citizens screaming in terror as he wrecked havoc in a bowl-cut. Sharing that mental silence felt... good, in a subdued way, and Haruka stole a glance at Rin's profile.

Rin didn't seem... nervous, so much as slightly lost in thought. Haruka wasn't sure what to make of it. He hadn't actually ever pried into the actual purpose of their visit, since he had figured it hardly made any difference either way; still, considering the most recent source of Rin's insecurities, the fact that he was throwing Haruka head first in front of his mother must have counted for something.

(How ironic was it that he, out of all the people in the world, had lately found himself anticipating the future, mentally preparing for consequences, trying to assess all the things Rin intentionally left unsaid...)

"You're pretty good."

Haruka flinched. "What?"

A quick embarrassment flickered in Rin's gaze, and he turned his head. "The drawing. You're pretty good. I mean, you always were, but–– Shit, you know what I mean."

"Oh." It took Haruka a moment to realize what Rin was referring to, but try as he might, he couldn't figure out how that was actually connected to anything relevant. "....Thank you."

Rin waited for a moment, but once Haruka saw no reason to continue, he groaned. "I meant, how long have you been doing that? Everyone always thinks all you ever do is swim, but... you're actually a pretty good artist, aren't you."

Alright, so Haruka might still need some practice with that whole reading-between-the-lines thing; luckily for him, Rin didn't seem particularly exasperated either way.

Haruka thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. It passes the time when I'm bored."

Rin let out a _tch_. "Figures, huh," he said, and sounded strangely unreadable as he went on, "You're the only person in the world who regards things they're good at as something they do when they're _bored_."

"All you ever do is read theory books," Haruka snapped, uncertain whether he was meant to perceive the comment as insult or compliment, "Maybe you should try actually doing things for a change."

Rin's eyes narrowed briefly; yet a split second before Haruka started to think he'd said something genuinely insulting, Rin's mouth twisted into a wry grin.

"I'm theoretically considering kicking your ass," he said, "So unless you want me to put that into practice too, you'd better start running."

This time there were hardly any lines to read between; Haruka let out a half surprised, half amused yelp before sprinting down the road with Rin close on his heels. It wasn't swimming, but racing down the trail towards Rin's grandmother's house still left him thrilled and out of breath; once Rin caught up with him, the former pensiveness had likewise paved way for a radiant grin.

"Ready?" Rin asked, and Haruka nodded.

"If you are," he replied, and realized he meant every word.

 

 

 

Ironically enough, it turned out Haruka wasn't actually the only visitor in the past few days.

Rin's expression scrunched up peculiarly when his mother candidly talked about a tall, polite young man who had helped Gou take back most of her belongings; Haruka made a mental note of taking out the time to drop by at Makoto's house sometime soon, if just to know whether to expect any tantrums out of Rin in the near future.

"Of course, Gou wouldn't let me talk to him for long," Mrs. Matsuoka laughed, and the way she gestured vividly reminding Haruka of Gou's mannerisms, "Which is why I'm glad you came to visit. I have a feeling both my children will soon be too busy with school to share what goes on in their lives."

As she spoke, her eyes trailed curiously over Haruka; the gaze did not feel intrusive, so much as she was merely interested in why her son had decided to bring a friend over on his last day of Summer break. "...Nanase-san, right? Rin told me the two of you went to school back when he lived here alone. I'm not sure if we've met before or not – I do hope you forgive me, but it's been so long..."

Haruka shook his head. He hadn't expected Rin's mother to remember him; Rin had only ever spent a few months in Iwatobi, during which his friends had had limited contact with his mother anyway. The fact that she was calling Haruka 'Nanase' meant that any recollection she might have had of him came from the days when Rin still did, too.

"It's alright," he said, then echoed, "It was a long time ago."

She smiled, and he could not help but smile back; Haruka had met Rin's mother before, but the years had underlined their similarity in the strangest of ways. The way their mouths curved on the side, the glimmer of ruby in her hair when the afternoon light caught her at an angle, the spark of life in her eyes... Haruka found himself wondering what it was that Rin might have inherited from his late father, since both Gou and he seemed so much like a spitting image of their mother.

(He couldn't say why, but the knowledge of this made Haruka feel completely relaxed.)

The three of them had dinner, and Rin talked about the schedule Mikoshiba had prepared for Autumn; they talked about competitions, and training, and how Rin figured he'd fit finals between all the practice. His mother courteously asked about the Iwatobi swim team, and Haruka replied in a polite, if somewhat curt manner. It felt strange to draw attention to himself, when he was far more content just observing the way Rin spoke to his mother; how he gestured at her, or instinctively raised his voice when she poked fun at him.

For the first time since the afternoon they had spent at Haruka's house together with Rin, Gou, and Makoto, Haruka's heart felt heavy and soft, simultaneously, with something he could not properly name.

Afterwards, Rin's mother asked Rin to finish pulling out the knotweeds in the garden; she claimed her wrist had been aching since yesterday, and with a juvenile moan he conceded to her request. The sun was still hot and high over the rooftops, throwing long shadows over the veranda, but it was clear the peak of Summer had passed.

Not long after Rin had disappeared among the weeds, Mrs. Matsuoka glanced up at Haruka and tapped at the empty spot next to her. As he took the seat, for a while they merely sat there listening to the chicadas cricketing away in the distance, the harmony broken momentarily by Rin swearing at the knotweeds.

"...It's you, isn't it," his mother finally said, voice soft but low, as to keep the conversation between the two of them on purpose.

Haruka's eyes widened lightly on reflex, but when he turned his head, a delicate smile trailed on her lips.

"...You're Haruka," she said anew, drawing in a breath as she did, "Gou must have talked about you, sometime, but I didn't... it wasn't my first assumption to make, as you may understand."

Haruka couldn't think of anything at all to respond with, so he remained quiet; the smile on her face deepened, but there was something almost... wistful to it.

"It's the way you look at him," she said with a little laugh, "I can tell, of course... just the way I can tell the way he looks at you; he's my son, after all."

Her eyes finally flicked up at Haruka, and deep down he was more relieved than he could have imagined to detect no outright disdain in her gaze.

"Listen, I..." she trailed off, then nodded at herself with something akin to resolve, "I won't... claim to understand things I do not completely understand, or pretend to know what it's... like, but... I am willing to bet there's a reason he has been happier lately, and that that reason is you."

She reached over with one hand, brushing it over Haruka's own. "I know he's not always the best person in the world," she laughed lightly anew, "...But he's also not the worst, so... please, if you could, I hope... that you continue to make him happy."

(Somewhere, beyond the sun and the chicadas and the early Autumn breeze, Haruka could hear the wind chimes again; he lifted his eyes, and the reflection of a glass chime on the porch glinted in his eye, temporarily making the world white.)

"I will," he said.

Mrs. Matsuoka gave his hand a small squeeze.

Once Rin emerged, covered in dirt and the faint outline of a sunburn across his shoulders, he shot a suspicious look at the two of them; his mother concealed her words in a silent smile, and Haruka decided he would tell Rin eventually – though for now, he wanted to own that moment alone.

"Would you like to stay over?" Mrs. Matsuoka said once the day was beginning to grow old, "I know tomorrow is the beginning of the second term, but it would be like having my kids here again."

"It's alright," Haruka replied before he could stop himself, "I skipped the first day of first term too."

Underneath the table, he felt Rin kicking his foot, but Mrs. Matsuoka only laughed. "Well, that settles it then. You can stay in the room upstairs. It must be nostalgic for Rin to, I don't think he has stayed over since he lived here!"

"Are you nuts?!" Rin hissed at Haruka as they ascended the stairs, his voice drowned out by the sounds of his mother clearing away dishes in the kitchen, "We didn't need to spend the night!"

"But I wanted to," Haruka calmly replied; he was still sort of processing the reasons _why_ this had felt to him like a good idea, but there was something about this house that put him at ease. Moreover, had he not taken the invitation, the two of them would have walked through that door and eventually headed in separate directions; it might not have been ideal, but Haruka wasn't going to ignore a chance to sleep next to Rin after what felt like a lifetime.

(Well, a few days here and there anyway – time was relative, and he wasn't one to argue the details.)

Rin took a bath first; Haruka argued he would get bits of weeds everywhere should he be the one to lay out the futons, and Rin grudgingly agreed. While pulling out the bedding, Haruka found himself thinking about Rin's back and the patterns drawn across it by the sun; he was momentarily lost in thought, trying to picture the contrast between the tan and the lightness of his skin.

"Hey, stop daydreaming and take a bath, idiot," Rin eventually cut him off, and Haruka realized he had barely made any progress with the futons at all.

Okay, Haruka hadn't... remembered to take this particular piece of the puzzle into account; as innocently as he had expressed the desire to spend the night with Rin, he had forgotten that parts of him no longer regarded this prospects with the bright-eyed fascination of the first time they'd kissed.

It was to Mrs. Matsuoka's credit that she had made Haruka imagine a world where, at least for a few hours, Haruka didn't feel excruciatingly torn between wanting to just _stop thinking_ yet also remembering that Rin had his boundaries; still, there were few distractions to hide behind once Haruka finished his bath and found Rin sitting cross-legged on the futon, hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail and stripped down to his underwear.

"Hey," Rin breathed out, and for a fleeting heartbeat Haruka wanted to turn around and run out of this house as far as his feet could carry him.

"How's your back," he asked instead, and his voice came out oddly robotic.

Rin shrugged. "Could be worse," he replied, stretching out his arms (which hardly made things any easier, but Haruka also chose that very moment to stare at a strip of chipped wood on the wall), "I think it's really just my shoulders. Wanna see?"

"No," Haruka replied on cue, by which he really meant _yes_ , which in turn meant the real answer was still _no_.

Rin twisted his face in mock-annoyance. "Whatever, you're missing out. Anyway, I gotta sleep early to get to Samezuka on time tomorrow."

Haruka was pretty sure he had heard those almost exact words coming out of Rin's mouth in a similar situation before, but he refused to think about their potential implication. Taking in a deep breath, he knelt down on his futon, held still, then stretched out; it took him until Rin shoved at his shoulder to realize what was off with the picture.

"Fine, stay there, it's not like I wanted to sleep next to you anyway."

"No, I––" Haruka was surprised at how difficult it was to act normal; it wouldn't take long before Rin noticed his overwhelmed state of mind, but that would also risk overloading Rin with pressure, and then–– well, then Haruka probably would feel a lot like punching himself in the face.

Why couldn't he function like a normal being?

Why was this so...

_why can't you just be what he needs you to be?_

Haruka choked down the brief pang of anxiety, and simply rolled over until his head touched Rin's chest. Concealing his face in the fabric of Rin's top was easier than looking him in the eye, so Haruka remained there.

Still, the words came out unannounced even to him. "...You're okay with this, right?"

Rin tensed on reflex, but soon allowed his muscles to relax. Haruka felt his hand reach up to the back of his head, brushing along it gently as Rin undoubtedly stared at the ceiling above. "Well, it's kinda... weird to be back. I'm not sure how it feels, exactly."

(Wasn't it the most well-timed irony in the world that it took until this scene for Haruka to understand he wasn't the only person to struggle with reading between the lines, sometimes.)

"I mean, this used to be my room. The things and memories I had here were the things I took with me to Australia... and the things I eventually threw away."

Rin's voice did not waver, but it did gain a vaguely sad tint; Haruka felt the urge to reach up and see his face, but at the same time he knew the reason Rin was able to talk about this at all was because Haruka allowed him his privacy.

"...It's fine though," Rin went on, and his finger shifted to the base of Haruka's skull, "It's done. It's over. I've got new things in my life; new ways to make sure I don't screw up the opportunities I've been given, right?"

"Rin––" Haruka said, shoulders lifting, but the weight of Rin's arm around him held him down.

"No, I said it's fine. You don't need to–– I don't want you to––" Rin dawdled for a second, yet sounded uncharacteristically lost as he went on. "...You're here now. That's what counts, right?"

Haruka grew silent. After a short pause, he reached up, and this time Rin did not stop him.

"...We're not talking about you and Australia anymore, are we," he said.

Rin turned his head, avoiding his gaze. "I, ah..." Rin muttered, biting down on his lip; Haruka felt an almost irresistible need to just trace a thumb across his mouth, but grounded himself before he could let himself get carried away.

"I get it if you don't... want to, you know... do stuff with me. Yet. Or ever, I'm–– I'm totally fine with ever, too, if that's what you want, you know? Just... I just don't want to fuck this up too."

Haruka blinked. Once, then twice.

"No," he said then, and Rin frowned.

"What?"

"No," Haruka repeated again, shaking his head, "You're not–– I'm not–– We're––"

He leaned back, suddenly feeling awfully lightheaded. His programming had been running on overdrive for the past few days, and this was the one chip that pushed it all over the edge; Rin was _not_ telling him that all this time, he had been holding back because of Haruka, trying to control himself because of Haruka, because he thought–– assumed–– believed––

"Idiot," Haruka choked out, grabbing hold of the side of Rin's shoulder; Rin winced, possibly because of the sunburn, but did not turn away. "You're... the biggest, dumbest, most foolish _idiot_ I have ever met in my life, and I'm–– I'm––"

The frustrated grunt that escaped him brought back the days of their childhood, the months he had spent trying to stifle all the ways in which Rin made him want to scream; over and over, time and again, he couldn't seem to escape the complete asinine way Rin turned his whole world upside down, but for once... he could tell why.

He brought his face an inch away from Rin's, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he snapped.

Further confusion clouded in Rin's expression. "Huh?"

"Do. you. want me to kiss you." Haruka enunciated his words so slowly, he could have just as well been screaming _did I fucking stutter?!_

Rin hesitated, then nodded. "....Uh, yeah?"

"And do you want to kiss me."

"...Uh?"

"...Do. you. want––"

"––Y, yeah, of course I do, I––"

"Good. Now, do you want me to touch you?"

Rin's face flushed crimson, much like Haruka had anticipated; still, as much as he felt sympathy for Rin's sweet summer soul, he had no time to beat around the bush, and even less interest to mince his words at this point. They had wasted enough time misreading each other's signals – Haruka wasn't about to leave anything up to chance anymore.

"...Yes?" Rin eventually hazarded, clearly uncertain whether he was defying some kind of universal law by failing to combust on the spot under Haruka's stare.

Haruka nodded curtly. "And do you want to touch me?"

Rin opened his mouth, but no sound came out; Haruka took a deep breath, but before he could repeat the question, the tiniest, bashful, yet oddly triumphant smile curved on the side of Rin's mouth.

"Yeah," he breathed out, reaching out a hand to graze the side of Haruka's face. "I do."

(And Haruka could have sworn, could have absolutely testified in court and in front of his maker, that for a second in time his heart stopped beating right there and then; because the tidal wave of emotion that washed over him, well, it felt even stronger than the ones from before, grabbing him by the heart and plunging him into the troughs.)

Once he regained the ability to speak, he didn't care that he could sense a completely ridiculous smile etched into his voice when he breathed out, "Alright."

"Good talk," Rin mimicked, and Haruka responded by virtually crushing their lips together.

(He eventually laughed against those lips, too, if just because he couldn't help it; he felt Rin laughing too, through the playful way he nibbled on Haruka's lower lip, digging his fingers into Haruka's sides in an attempt to yank him closer; and throughout it all Haruka couldn't stop thinking _disgusting disgusting disgusting_ at how each nerve in his body felt like bursting out of his skin, until not a sweeter word in the world remained.)

Brushing through the flimsy elastic band in Rin's hair, the red strands fanned across Haruka's hands; his fingers knotted in Rin's hair when Rin dipped his head and left a clumsy trail of wet kisses on the side of Haruka's neck, revealing at once that Haruka had never been the only one to stare. It made Haruka bold enough to hook Rin's knee with his own again, locking the two of them together while Haruka brought down his arm to run his knuckles across Rin's stomach; the muscles quivered under his touch on instinct, and the reaction sparked in Haruka a need to push the tank top off Rin altogether.

He didn't–– he couldn't say what made him _do_ all these things, any more than he knew why he wanted it; but then, he had never known anything when it came to Rin, and somehow, they had still stumbled into this dysfunctional haven of trust, comfort, and severed nerves – surely, adding blind desire on top of that list could not possibly make their bizarre relationship any weirder, especially since many of their mutual frustrations seemed to center around that very element to begin with.

_closer closer closer I just need to be_

_(as close to you as humanly possible)_

He could sense the remnants of Rin's self-consciousness in the sharp breath Rin drew in once Haruka's lips dragged along his chest. The instinct felt so ingrained into Haruka that he could not imagine having to second guess himself, the way Rin always seemed to; yet it wasn't until now that Haruka also understood how important it had been for him to know exactly what Rin was ready and not ready for, as the low sound that soon escaped Rin twisted something away at Haruka in ways he could not have anticipated.

Because he had to do this _with_ Rin, or there was no point in doing it at all; feel what Rin felt, or else he couldn't feel anything at all; so it made sense that only one thing ever emerged in his mind when Rin did not recoil from the hand Haruka slid under the waistband of his underwear, and why Haruka's heart felt like bursting for the fifteenth time tonight when Rin's flushed face leaned closer towards his with an unexpectedly feral smile and said,

"I bet I can do it better than you."

Haruka's only response was a glare, but the ice in his eyes diluted the moment Rin unceremoniously knocked past Haruka's arm and buried his fingers into the curve on the underside of Haruka's hip; the sound that left his lips when Rin's palm closed around his cock could have struck him as embarrassing in any other context, if just for the triumph it elicited on Rin's face, but hey; sometimes there were tiny victories you had to concede in order to wage the battle at all.

This hardly meant he was going to forfeit the whole war, though. Had someone asked, Haruka probably wouldn't have been able to tell whether he was glaring or smiling or laughing or crying, because the look of combative lust on Rin's face must have paralleled his own; both of their angles were awkward at best, but when Rin's fingers grazed along the entire length of his shaft –if just to show that he wasn't self-aware, no, not self-aware at all that all of this was taking place– the simultaneous pressure Haruka applied on his own hand felt as though it transmitted between them through his skin.

The kiss Haruka landed on Rin's mouth was equally wet and sloppy, but it was easier to close his eyes once they lidded over as Rin proceeded to jerk him off in determined, vigorous tugs; Haruka hated to admit it, but Rin _was_ better at this than he was. The thought was strangely hilarious and embarrassing all at once, which would have made Haruka chuckle, had he not been far too mentally occupied by trying to stop the weight in his stomach building up before he had at least gauged another erratic moan out of Rin's mouth.

After all, Haruka was nothing if not a resourceful, headstrong (stubborn) young man, so he simply grit his teeth and pushed up against Rin's chest. Shifting a little, he found the side of Rin's head, then the lobe of his ear; Haruka finally earned the moan he had been after when his teeth grazed at the soft skin, eventually moving down the length of Rin's jaw, treasuring the low _oh fuck you_ that soon followed.

Maybe Haruka would have chuckled then – maybe he would have done a lot of things. But he should have known that Rin was only ever two steps behind at most, and that he'd long since practiced pushing Haruka over with a lean of his hips. Haruka's breath hitched in his lungs momentarily in the aftermath of Rin toppling over him, before Rin balanced on his knees; still, it gave Rin enough leverage to leave Haruka at disadvantage, pinned into the futon by the weight of Rin's body.

"If you hate losing that much," Rin gasped into his ear, though, trying to get the words out before they got the best of him, "Can't we just finish together?"

(Looking back, Haruka would never admit it, but it took him each ounce of willpower to not simply come there and then; instead, he let out a sound that sounded like he was dying, and twisted his mouth into a grimace that disguised his true intention.)

"Fine," he spat out, because it seemed like the safest choice lest his voice break; Rin gave him a _Look_ , but was courteous enough not to comment further – possibly because he didn't possess any more ability to.

There was a funny kind of hesitation when Rin leaned over Haruka anew, when he gripped Haruka's wrist and guided their cocks to brush together in a more tentative pace; likewise, Haruka felt an unusual tinge of tenderness in the way Rin kissed him, how his tongue nudged at Haruka's lips and brushed at his own tongue, before sinking deeper with a low hum that reverberated at the back of his throat.

Whether Rin did it on purpose or not, the pressure that built up within Haruka felt more languid this time; he'd come so close only moments before, but being yanked back at the edge of his climax meant his nerves were both overly aware and welcoming to the relaxed rhythm. His breath had gradually grown more heated with each sensitive stroke, but the actual moment of climax still took him by surprise; it crept on him slowly, pouring over his lips with the sound of Rin's name, and the pure vulnerability in his voice was enough to make Rin's spine jerk abruptly as he came over their joined hands.

Haruka continued to breath in deeply for what felt like minutes after Rin rolled over to his back; the old ceiling stared back in shades of worn out wood, and for a good while Haruka couldn't piece anything together in his head. The orgasm, while not the most intense of his life, had caught him unaware, slammed him into the deep end when he had least expected; in some ways, the irony of that sentiment crooked an exhausted smile on the side of his mouth.

"Well," Rin breathed out to break the silence after a while, "...I guess that's one memory I won't be throwing out."

Haruka scrunched up his entire face, resisting the urge to tell Rin to go kill himself; the grimace quickly morphed into a stupid grin, though, and he sighed.

"...You should go clean up first. And try not to wake up your mother when you do."

By his side, Rin immediately tensed like a pillar of salt.

" _Shit shit shit_ ––"

"...Don't tell me you forgot she's downstairs?"

"..................."

"..................."

"...You're terrible for me," Rin muttered, pushing himself off the futon; Haruka watched him stumble, not because the room was actually dark, but because Rin was still getting used to the weight of his legs after having all energy drained out of his body.

(The main reason Haruka had told Rin to go ahead first was because he'd rather Rin didn't find out how little Haruka trusted his own legs to carry him, either.)

So, once the brightness of the hallway swallowed Rin, Haruka leaned back and kept breathing in; slow, steady breaths to clear out his head, to make sense of the whirlwind of thoughts swirling about in his mind. The strange thing was that he expected some kind of doubt to kick in; that somehow, he should have felt _different_ about all of this, as opposed to the person he had been this morning, but no anxiety ever came.

Whether Rin was on the other side of the hall right now, going through an existential crisis, Haruka didn't know. He hoped that wasn't the case. He...

(knew it couldn't be)

––not after everything, not after the way Rin's eyes had looked when he'd glanced up at Haruka and admitted that he wanted to touch him, too; because the sincere affection in those eyes had been almost poignant enough to touch, and while something held Haruka back from pursuing that thought any further than he could afford to right now, he...

(heard the chimes anyway, swaying in the wind outside that window)

and with that he knew the Summer had come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: it's only going to get more disgusting from here on out.
> 
> Also, Autumn.


	10. Special Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago I decided I wanted to write something a little special for my birthday (which is today, May 24th! hooray for me!), and that it would have to do with Wind Waves. Because it will be a while before I can start publishing the actual story again, I opted for this short little special chapter, which takes place between chapters 1-7, and diverges from the traditional Haruka/Rin narrative.
> 
> It's not much, but it's a side story I wanted to tell; I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> (The Nagisa/Rei is stronger here, but you can also easily read it as friendship.)
> 
> /edit: ao3 was doing something weird with my formatting with some of the italics (??) but I think they're all fixed now.

 

 

_It's gonna happen no more than 4 days later._

_Total wager: 560 yen_

"Nagisa-kun, you need to be more specific. You can't be ambiguous with the rules when it comes to something like this."

"Fine, fine. Gimme a sec..."

_No more than 4 days after the disqualified relay, Rin-chan and Haru-chan will make out._

_Total wager: 560 yen_

"Alright. You're on."

 

 

 

Were this world a fair and just place, Nagisa would have won that bet. Should have won that bet. Could have, _easily_ , won those lousy 560 yen on the very first day they arrived for joint practice at Samezuka.

It was written all over Rin's adorably perplexed face as his eyes scanned the hall for Haruka, with all the subtlety of a glaring neon sign. It was wrapped in the barely contained excitement that radiated off Haruka, wavering in the water like an electric current. It was–– going to happen, _damn it_ , because when you put low and high pressure together a storm ensues, and the rules of nature never lie.

(；￣Д￣）, said the message Gou sent him later that afternoon, and for the first time in longer than Nagisa could remember, he swore out loud.

"It must have been Rin-chan," he told Rei while grudgingly fishing out coins. "He must have been too stupid to realize it was the perfect chance. _Nobody was there_. They totally would have made out right there and then, if this was one of those comic books Gou-chan reads everywhere."

"But it's not," Rei calmly replied, and pocketed Nagisa's money.

 

 

 

_No more than 7 days after the disqualified relay, Rin-chan and Haru-chan will make out. Rin-chan won't freak out and try to flee to Borneo._

_Total wager: 1020 yen_

"You're upping the stakes, huh?"

"You go big or you go home."

 

 

 

"I still want that ice cream," Nagisa said, "But I guess I could always buy it with the 1020 yen you'll owe me by the end of the day."

As a human walking stick, Nagisa was both insufficient yet admirably dedicated. Every two steps Rei would feel his shoulder lunging forward, yet somehow Nagisa always cut in to stop them from landing face first into the asphalt.

His back still hurt, either way.

"I don't mean to belittle your odds, but had it not been for Makoto-senpai, you would have completely sabotaged yourself back there."

Nagisa pulled a face at Rei's needless logic.

"Hey, I was trying not to accidentally cheat," he protested cheerfully, "Unlike _some people_ , I'm going to stay subtle. Kinda. Sorta."

Once upon a time, Rei might have pointed out that the word _subtle_ probably did not mean what Nagisa thought it meant. Only problem was, once upon a time seemed like a whole another universe away, since Rei was slowly losing track of what it supposedly meant himself.

A few things he still clung to, for certain:

 _Subtle_ was not the way Haruka kept staring at Rin with unashamed fascination all throughout this afternoon's practice.

 _Subtle_ was not how Rin would laugh a little harder, talk a little louder, joke a little dumber just for an excuse to catch Haruka's gaze.

 _Subtle_ was not Haruka's complete disinterest in anything and everything until he heard Rin's voice, at which point every sensory nerve in him seemed to come alive.

 _Subtle_ was not Rin's thinly veiled panic at anyone actually seeing through his jabs, while deep down hoping someone did notice – just to give him a reason to vehemently deny it.

Next to those two, even Nagisa's lackluster attempts at discreetness could probably be classified as a work of art.

Sure enough, his smile was a mask of confidence. "I totally don't need to orchestrate circumstances to win."

"And I don't need to try and stall them to know that you won't," Rei said, wincing as an ache shot through his injured back; the mischievousness on Nagisa's face twisted with disgruntled impatience, and he almost missed his step.

"You're so wrong," Nagisa grumbled under his breath, "Just wait and see. It can literally take only a day before those two explode from the sheer force of their self-denial. Well, just Rin-chan, 'cos I don't think Haru-chan lives in denial, just perpetual stupidity."

"So close, yet so far from the truth," Rei sighed, and Nagisa kind of wanted to trip on purpose.

On the following day, he handed over a 1000 yen note along with two 10 yen coins.

 

 

 

 _No more than two weeks after the disqualified relay, Rin-chan and Haru-chan will make out._   _Rin-chan won't freak out and try to flee to Borneo._ _Haru-chan will be the one to confess first._

_Total wager: 2000 yen_

"You're really adamant about this."

"I know, it's what I'm best at."

 

 

 

Nagisa stared at the mind-map he had drawn on a blank piece of paper.

The fact that all his carefully crafted predictions were falling all over the place made absolutely no sense.

Hadn't he accounted for everything?

This was 100% scientific, after all:

It should have been physically impossible for those two to breathe the same air together without _something_ happening. The low success rate of this scenario had always relied on Rin and Haruka to reject each other through misunderstanding and pride, but these days they seemed to come up with any lousy excuse to spend time with one another. Wasn't that supposed to, you know, lead to something?

Fine, yeah, sure. Something _had_ happened.

Nagisa just hadn't expected was for that something to be a bunch of _bonding_.

Bonding?

Really?

Who the hell cared about any of that?

It didn't take a mathematical diagram or an elaborate psychological profile to know that there had only ever been one outcome in this bizarre war of nerves; hell, everyone knew that. Even Makoto wasn't hiding his intentions of gently goading Haruka along anymore, although his motives for doing so were probably a lot more altruistic than Nagisa's.

(Yeah, sure, Nagisa cared about the emotional happiness of his friends too, whatever, but he also wanted to make his money back. And maybe a small profit.)

"You really don't get it, do you?" Rei mused aloud over his shoulder.

Quickly cradling the map away from prying eyes, Nagisa puffed out his cheeks. "What's wrong with my chart?"

"Your mind map is correct on all accounts," Rei stated in response, smile teetering on the verge of smugness, "But the reason you keep losing this bet is because you've forgotten the most important part of the equation."

The crease on Nagisa's brow wrinkled as the paper crumpled in his hands. The sight was so endearingly comical that it almost made Rei want to tell him, but only just; being able to see Nagisa this flustered was rare, and he sort of wanted to treasure the moment.

"I'm gonna figure this out even if it's the last thing I do," Nagisa muttered under his breath, and went back to revise his map.

He couldn't see Rei's smile turn from smug to tender.

"I know."

 

 

 

 _No more than three weeks after the disqualified relay, Rin-chan and Haru-chan will make out._   _Rin-chan won't freak out and try to flee to Borneo. Haru-chan will be the one to confess first. Rin will do something ridiculously embarrassing._

_Total wager: 4000 yen_

"I will gladly accept your money again, if that's what you want."

"Har har. It's only a matter of time, now. I give it two more days. Okay, three. ...Maybe four."

 

 

 

The expression on Rin's face when Haruka smiled at a joke he made.

The warmth in Haruka's voice when he spoke out Rin's name.

Rin's eyes as he watched Haruka in the water.

Haruka's intensity as they shared it together.

A glance.

A touch.

A whisper.

A jab.

A snarl.

A challenge a dare a contest a bet _a hundred thousand million tiny ways_ to say,

_I'm yours,_

_if you'll have me_

 

And nothing.

Nothing nothing nothing.

(Nagisa was going to scream.)

 

 

_No more than a month after the disqualified relay, Rin-chan and Haru-chan will make out._   _Rin-chan won't freak out and try to flee to Borneo. Haru-chan will be the one to confess first. Rin will do something ridiculously embarrassing. It's only going to get more disgusting from here on out._

_Total wager: 10,000 yen_

"...You're sure about this?"

"DON'T TEST ME REI-CHAN. THREE OUT OF THREE PEOPLE AGREE THAT BEING STAPLED IN THE FACE HURTS."

 

 

 

Technically, a movie night wasn't breaking the rules. Technically, he wasn't trying to speed things along. Technically, Nagisa wasn't growing more desperate the poorer he got.

(Technically, he _was_ secretly planning just slipping Rin a copy of human biology.)

But if Nagisa happened to pick out a pseudo horror film (which Makoto hated), who was going to blame him? And if that film made Makoto want to stay over (which it did), who was going to sue him? And if that meant Haruka and Rin ended up heading home together (which they did), then who would suspect him? And if the combined length of his films forced Rin to miss his final train to Samezuka (which it didn't), well...

"This is such a stupid plan," Rei sighed, staring at the cover of _Prometheus_ , "That it's probably going to work."

Nagisa beamed, looking hopeful. "You think so?"

"Maybe. For once I can't say for sure," Rei said, leaning over to run his fingers through the lock of hair tumbling over Nagisa's forehead, and an impish smile lit up on Nagisa's face.

Lingering in the curve of his mouth, that smile never really left. His plan would work, it _had_ to work; there was absolutely no way for any of them to miss the change in atmosphere between Haruka and Rin that night, like an air of expectant tension where Haruka rested his head on Rin's leg; and it could have been such a pointless, irrelevant little detail, but it wasn't.

Perhaps, in some way, it might have even been the one detail that changed everything, because what Rin did was _seize_ it; the stupid, stubborn Rin who refused to be swayed by Nagisa's intense brain waves, finally allowing himself to return one of Haruka's direct expressions of affection.

There was no way, _no way_ that something wouldn't happen after that - because the rules of nature also dictate that once you crack the flood gates open, the waves around bound to wash you away.

Nagisa was damn sure going to win this bet, or die trying.

And still...

The moment the door closed behind Haruka and Rin that night, the elated rush of triumph never came. It wasn't like Nagisa had been waiting for fireworks and confetti, or the sound of an entire casino exploding in his head, but he had thought this moment would feel a bit more... accomplished, as opposed to the sudden silence in the room.

Turning around, Nagisa's eyes met Rei's, and what finally hit him was a rush of doubt instead.

"...Rei-chan, I didn't just make a mistake, did I?"

The sudden insecurity of his words made Makoto glance up from his protective pillow; Rei, on the other hand, remained quiet on purpose, and Nagisa found himself lost in a curious pang of regret he had not often felt.

"...Was that really okay for me to do? I know it's what they really want, but..."

"...But what if they're not ready yet," Rei finished the sentence, no trace of blame in his voice.

Nagisa looked up, surprised.

"Yeah," he said, tilting his head in bewilderment, "That's what I was gonna..."

He paused, a hesitant laughter passing his lips. "I mean, I don't know why I feel so nervous all of a sudden? I knew it's gonna happen, but I thought..."

"...That it wouldn't also make you worry about the consequences," Rei added again, with a light nod of his head; trading glances with Makoto, he sat down next to Nagisa on the bed and nudged their shoulders together encouragingly. "You thought that somehow they could just skip past all the stuff that happened in the past, or past the people they are right now, like it doesn't define everything they are and everything they do."

Nagisa stuck up his chin, trying to disguise his sheepishness into cheekiness. "Well I wouldn't have put it in quite such a pretentious way," he scrunched up his nose, "But, yeah. I guess that's what I meant, too."

Rei's mouth curved into a reassuring smile.

"And there's your missing part of the equation," he said. "It's not that watching all of this unfold at the pace of a phlegmatic snail hasn't been frustrating for us all, but I had a feeling it was going to turn out this way, after–– you know, back when everything was Rin-san this or Rin-san that? I didn't get any of that at all, either."

He let out a little snort, then hand-waved that completely unbecoming gesture away as though it never happened. "But I think I have an idea of how it is now. I think I have an idea of what they had to give up, and how intimidating it is to get all of that back again. That's why I knew it'd take a while."

Nagisa let the air filter through his teeth in a silent _fffft_ and plopped down on the bed on his back. "Aaah, Rei-chan is too soft-spoken and smart," he mock-complained, "This bet was a dumb idea in the first place, wasn't it?"

A pillow landed on his face with a soft thud. As Nagisa instinctively pushed it aside, he found Makoto peering over him in amusement.

"...I wouldn't worry too much," Makoto said, "You're good at giving people a push. If anyone, these two sometimes _need_ a push."

"And if I accidentally just made things worse?"

There was genuine concern in Nagisa's voice, like an afterthought to all the things he had always taken for granted; like somehow, it had never really mattered what he did or why, because any misgivings could always be absolved with the strength of his conviction alone.

Makoto let out a chuckle, reminded of all the people in his life who were all slowly coming to terms with this – himself included.

Gently flicking at Nagisa's forehead, he brushed away whatever doubt still remained within. "Nagisa, what happens happens, and I think it happens exactly when it's meant to. You know as well as I do that regardless of the circumstances, they'll always find a way."

He glanced up at Rei, who nodded, and returned the smile.

 

 

 

_OMG IM COMIN OVER_

_OK REICHAN SAYS I CANT COME OVER_

_NO REICHANS GONNA STEAL MY PHONEJGF_

_DFSUIDNNSESA:KDFKS_

_4J4R,E_

 

The sound of Nagisa's typing was lost amidst his hysterical laughter as Rei wrestled the phone out of his fingers; lost in the lightness of his excitement, the wave of overjoyed relief.

Somehow, he just _knew_. The radio silence, the skipped practice, the taste of rain and future in the air; it had nothing to do with the bet, nothing to do with being right, but everything to do with the strange, overwhelming happiness that he could feel trickling down to his bones.

Strange?

No.

( _What they feel is what you feel, and so_ )

"...You knew I was going to win, didn't you."

The suspicion in Nagisa's voice was not one of distrust. Wrenching himself out of Rei's grip, Nagisa squinted at him with honest curiosity; the supposedly innocent face Rei pulled in response was, if possible, even less convincing than Rin and Haruka's attempts at subtlety.

"Let me get your money," he said, and for a second Nagisa wanted to pull him back by the arm, insist that it didn't matter, that he didn't care about the bet anymore, but Rei had already scrambled to his drawer and pulled out something flat.

He then handed it over to Nagisa.

"Here. It's not quite 10 000 yen, but it's all the money you've given me so far."

The envelope was pristine and untouched; inside, Nagisa could feel the weight and rattle of small coins, crumpled old notes smoothed in place with determined precision.

Nagisa stared at it, then at Rei, uncharacteristically lost for words.

"...You saved my money?"

The question seemed to make little sense to Rei. "Of course I did. You didn't think I was going to spend it?"

"Well, yeah," Nagisa replied, still perplexed, "...To somehow make it worth it, waiting for everyone to figure themselves out. Waiting for me to win."

This time, Nagisa didn't miss the tenderness that shaped the smile on Rei's face.

"Don't be stupid, Nagisa-kun," Rei said, flipping Nagisa's phone over.

The image set as the background showed a group of friends, some two weeks ago, with Nagisa and Gou at the forefront trying to take a selfie. Makoto looked confused, Rei looked suspicious, and somewhere in the distance, Haruka and Rin were only looking at one another.

"It's always worth it," Rei went on, and when he spoke the honesty in his words was almost tangible enough to touch.

"Seeing my friends win."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in that moment we were all Nagisa.
> 
> Thanks to anyone still waiting for this drivel; I'll do my best to continue it soon. It will be better than this throwaway thing hahah, I promise.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> Less than a week 'till Season 2, and we're back in business.
> 
> (Thank you to everyone who left me comments in my absence; you will never know how much they've meant to me. To say anything more would come off repetitive and banal, but please always remember this: the thoughts of each and every one of you counts. Always.)
> 
> /edit lol my beta is so lazy i'm still finding a couple of errors, but will try to fix them ASAP!

_From: makoto12@xx.co.jp_

_To: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_Re: Just something I was wondering about_

 

 _You know, I don't think I've ever thought about that? He doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would care for traditional things, but then I guess that's why you're asking me in the first place, so hmm..._

_Well, if it were up to me, I guess I'd just go for something pretty simple with the one I like. A walk in a nice place, or find out what they like to eat and treat them to that something special. Just spending time with them is enough for me, which is why I don't think you should worry too much either way – I'm sure he'll be happy enough just being with you regardless of what you come up with._

_Wow, I'm not really of much use, am I... Sorry!_

 

_From: papilionoidea@xx.co.jp_

_To: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_Re: Uhh, help?_

_YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PERSON RINRIN. I MEAN. RINCHAN...SAN... WHATEVER. YES THIS IS 100% REICHAN. YOU ARE TALKING TO HIM. I MEAN ME. I MEAN okay whatever i can help you but you gotta do exactly as i say_ ヘ（ _´_ ｏ｀）ヘ _ok even i dont know what that kaomoji is but roll w/ me before it starts freaking me out_

 _first off, you gotta get a hot air balloon. they have hot air balloons in europe and anything european is classy as hell trust me im an expert. next you need to get a ring made out of 10 carat solid norwegian cod, not some cheapskate local fish but imported norwegian one 'cos I TOLD YOU!!! EUROPE!!! wait wheres norway? anyway whatever just make sure you acquire it through any illegal means possible and hide it in a cake made to look like haruchans face._

_then you gotta take him up on that hot air balloon and when the clock strikes ten to midnight, before he turns back into a beautiful dolphin, you gotta say: pls marry me through this token of my affection which is not at all cheesy and predictable, and ofc haruchan will probably be all idk cant i just sit in my tub instead but you can just bite off his face or something and he will live on in ur tummy forever_

_(((*°_ ▽ _°*)_ 八 _(*°_ ▽ _°*)))♪_

 _THIS IS THE MOST ROMANTIC DATE PLAN EVER AND I BET YOUR MAIDEN HEART IT'LL WORK (_ ｀・ _ω_ ・ _´)”_

_ps. if u want to send haruchan pics of ur ............. abs from reichans email, i can give u his password_

 

_From: iwatobipenguinsan@xx.co.jp_

_To: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_Re: If I e-mail Nagisa, will I actually get an answer from Rei?_

_nope still me (-_ _‿_ _◦_ ☀ _)_

 

_From: koupyon@xx.co.jp_

_To: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_Re: I can't believe I'm asking you this but_

 

 _O_ _hh!!! Well, there's a ton of things you could do! Like... uhm... actually, I don't think any of the things I could come up with are particularly suited for Haruka-senpai. I mean, if it were up to me, I guess I'd just like something pretty simple; maybe go out for a walk in a nice place, and eat something fun. Like a seasonal delicacy! I love that kind of thing. It doesn't have to be much, after all, since isn't the whole point just to spend time with the person you like? Haha, good luck oniichan!_ ヾ _(@^_ ▽ _^@)_ ノ

 

What's the point of having friends if they're all complete idiots? 

Rin leaned his forehead into the triangle shaped by his thumbs and index fingers pressing together. With two days remaining, he absolutely did not have time for Nagisa's dumb ass commentary or Makoto and Gou's suspiciously-synchronized-yet-altogether-useless suggestions.

It was a simple goddamn question.

_What would you do if you had to take Haru out?_

Words like _Just have fun!_ and _Be yourself!_ could not have made Rin more aggravated even if they manifested as auto-play pop up ads dancing around his face. Hell, if he had wanted a bunch of drivel ganked straight off the Agony Aunt column, he would have just asked Nitori.

It wasn't like he was asking his friends what to _do_.

It wasn't like he didn't already spend half of his every waking hour going over each excruciating detail of how to spend his time with Nanase Haruka; that he didn't, as it happened, have an entire mental file overflowing with plans and ideas that Rin would rather die than ever let Haruka actually find out about.

But it wasn't that kind of a date.

"It's a dare, isn't it," Rei had dryly mused, once Rin managed to personally track him down; and Rin wasn't sure how Rei could tell, any more than he knew what the subsequent comment of _Sorry, I've had enough of those for a while_ meant, but it didn't make it any less true.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

How was it even logically possible that three weeks in –three weeks after the excruciatingly awkward breakfast Rin had had with his mother and Haruka on the first day of second term– the one attempt to actually discuss the current state of this bizarre relationship had ended up in a _dare_?

Okay.

Okay, okay, okay.

Maybe Haruka wasn't entirely at fault for that, but–– well.

Say.

What would _you_ have done?

 

 

 

_We should do something, he had said on Sunday, and as soon as the sound left his mouth he realized that he had picked the Worst Possible Timing; the lips on the side of his jaw came to an abrupt halt, and when Haruka craned his head, his brow was wrinkled in an unimpressed stare._

_What do you think I'm trying to do here, his expression growled with all the tact of a boyfriend who knows he's only got an hour and forty two minutes before trains and schools and weekdays cramped with practice claimed his chance at physical contact, and the sheer accusatory streak in Haruka's glare made Rin want to swallow down his own tongue._

_No, shit, I mean–– stuff. Something–– something other than_ this.

_The crease on Haruka's forehead shifted with incredulousness; before Rin could continue, he pulled back his shoulders, scrambled out of Rin's lap, and climbed off the side of the bed._

_Fumbling to grasp the sleeve of his t-shirt, Rin tried to grab his shoulder, only for the sudden tug to knock Haruka off his balance and send him knees first onto the floor._

_H–– hey, stop that, that's not what I––_

_The plead came out of Rin in a wheezy mix of snarl and panic, but he was relieved to note that Haruka did not try to pull away._

_There's nothing wrong with_ this _, you moron, but I–– We only have, like, a handful of hours to spend together, each week. It kinda seems like we should use that time on something other than just, y'know, making out in your room._

_Haruka said nothing for a while._

_Then he said, Okay._

_Next Saturday, we'll do whatever you think we should do instead of this._

_Do whatever you think is_ better _than this, is what his tone really meant, and Rin promptly realized he had accidentally dug himself a hole all the way to the other side of the world._

_(Because Rin also knew there was nothing, nothing at all in the universe he would rather do than make out with Haruka in his room for an entire weekend, this week and next week and all the goddamn weeks that followed; and maybe Haruka knew that as well as he did, judging from the calmness of his voice, but it came out sounding a lot like a challenge.)_

_One of these days Rin was going to learn how to not fall for the bait._

_One of these days._

_(But not today.)_

_I'll come up with something, he said, trying hard not to grit his teeth. We'll go out and do something, and it's going to be fucking awesome._

_He meant it, he really did._

_Or at least he meant it, all the way until Haruka let out a sigh; with Rin's hand still firmly lodged on the shoulder of his shirt, Haruka turned his head and landed a slow kiss on the underside of Rin's wrist._

_Sure, he said, like he always did, and Rin could literally feel Haruka's amused smile against his skin._

_Irritated, bewildered, overwhelmed;_

_he could pick one feeling, or he could pick them all._

_So, really,_

_what would_ you _have done?_

Rin flicked his phone further away on the desk, feeling a lot like kicking himself.

Was he _insane_?

He should have known that the second he brought the subject up, Haruka would cling to it with wounded pride, taking it to mean the exact opposite of what Rin actually meant. Of course, only Rin was capable of making it _sound_ like the exact opposite of what he actually meant, but because both of them were certified, grade A idiots, somehow it also resulted in throwing himself head first into the dare – simply because it was impossible to ever back down under Haruka's stare.

It hadn't occurred to Rin until four days later that he could have, you know, always _explained_ to Haruka what he had been trying to say; but no.

Perhaps, in a sense, this was because he was still trying to piece that logic together in the first place.

See, logic: For three weeks, they had been running the same routine of school - practice - weekend.

More logic: After homework and even more practice, this usually left them with an evening here, a morning there, to try and work on this whole Being Together thing.

Complicating logic: Any attempt to actually do things, talk about whatever, hell, even comment at how stupid Rei's hair looked in the photo Nagisa had sent to everyone – all of it became a distant blur in Rin's mind as soon Haruka touched his arm, and then it was suddenly midnight and Rin had absolutely no idea how they had spent five consecutive hours never once disengaged from each other's skin.

Final logic: Was this normal?

Rin was pretty sure it wasn't normal.

Not least of all because he didn't, because they hadn't, because––

He took a deep breath, trying to stifle the instinctive leap of his stomach at the rest of that thought; the flashbacks still plagued him in class, at practice, at every possible moment that absolutely did not call for the memory of Haruka's expression flushed and out of breath, but he could rarely fight them back.

(Normal normal normal _this couldn't be normal_ )

...Since that bizarre night at his grandmother's house, they had only skidded over the line of sexual intimacy once. It could have been easy to blame it on time constraints or the lack of privacy, easier yet to say that he simply wasn't _ready_ to process all that change; and perhaps, in some ways it wouldn't have been a lie.

But it wasn't the complete truth either;

because a part of him was still gracelessly burning through each nerve in his body whenever they kissed, and he'd thought he'd get used to it with time but fuck everything right into the center of hell, it _never_ stopped feeling that way; never failed to leave him overwhelmed at how effortlessly he found himself _wanting_ to spiral into that hormonal madness, and that... that kind of made him unnerved.

There had always been an undercurrent to any strong emotion that Rin couldn't help but view with distrust. An element of change he hated not being able to control. After all, the inability to taper his emotions rarely resulted in anything other than disaster; time and time again it had risked him losing track of the things that really mattered the most.

But it was just so... effortless, to yield into the moments when he _didn't_ feel as painfully self-aware;

like that time he'd dragged Haruka out jogging just to vent off steam, and when afterwards Haruka had asked if he wanted to share a bath, he hadn't thought of a single reason to decline.

(Hadn't thought of a single reason to fight back the relief of warm water undoing his muscles, any more than he second guessed himself for leaning the back of his head into the nook of Haruka's shoulder; it had felt worth it, just for the tickle at the base of his ear when Haruka muttered how heavy Rin was.

And well, that may have been so; although he'd felt light, lighter than in days, when he craned around to catch Haruka in an angled, clumsy kiss; with Haruka's fingers digging into his hip, it felt natural to laugh all over his lips when Haruka's fingertips grazed along his stomach, and the strangest thing about it – the strangest thing was, that it was so silly, and stupid, and all sorts of shameless for Haruka to find his audacious nerve in the familiarity of the water, but all at once Rin had also known that he had never felt as turned on by anything like the raw _need_ in his gaze.)

_and you knew then, that you would have thrown away everything_

_just to be the only person he ever looks at again with those eyes_

_but if you give up the world you give up yourself, and then what will you do?_

...It was impossible to win.

He clutched his phone anew in stifled frustration.

No, Rin _had_ to make this weekend count; not because of some pointless dare, but because he just wanted to–– prove to himself, almost, that the reason any of this –his life with Haruka, as bewildering and overwhelming as it could be– existed, was not because of hormones, or some misguided illusion brought about by a lifetime of tension, but because––

The phone in Rin's hand suddenly vibrated, giving him a start.

The cheerful melody he had set for his sister danced into the room, reminding Rin of Gou's existence. His first instinct was to brush off the incoming message, to save himself from the aggravation of trivial suggestions, but the gesture came to an abrupt halt.

Instead of annoyance, his brow lifted with curious surprise.

 

_From: koupyon@xx.co.jp_

_To: matsuokarin@xx.co.jp_

_Re:Re: I can't believe I'm asking you this but_

 

 _Meet me after school tomorrow. I think I found something that might help you out_ ( ΦωΦ )

 

 

 

"...Why are we here?"

"Why am _I_ here?"

Trying to ignore the way the midday sun blared down on his neck, Rin glanced at Haruka, then Makoto, then back to Haruka.

"You," he said, pointing a finger right in Haruka's face, "Are here because I told you to show up oceanside at noon. And _you_ ," he shifted it towards Makoto, "Are here, because I need an objective referee. Well, assuming you're not just gonna tilt the scales in Haru's favour so he won't pout for hours after I win."

Makoto's perplexed "Uh, alright?" merged with Haruka's suspicious "Win _what?_ " with beautiful synchronicity, and Rin couldn't help breaking into a wry grin.

(What's the point of having friends if they're _not_ all complete, predictable idiots?)

With an exaggerated gesture, he pulled out a small notebook. Careful to conceal it from Haruka's line of sight, Rin read aloud: " _Figure one: a 100 m sprint challenge._ "

He squinted into the distance, then mock-frowned in thought. "I think... that's roughly from here to the large patch of grass up ahead, well, give or take. I hope you're wearing good shoes."

There was a brief silence, perhaps to anticipate the moment Rin would reveal he was kidding; that he hadn't, contrary to obvious evidence, made Haruka skip practice and drag himself out here on sweltering day in late September, with no other purpose than to have a _sprint race_.

Haruka's eyes widened with dubious recognition when that moment never came. "...You're serious?"

For a split second Rin felt the sting of uncertainty; with Haruka, you could never tell for certain whether he was going to struggle against the script simply out of spite. But a trace of curiosity also clung to his voice like a loose thread, and Rin only had to reach out and tug at it for all of Haruka's feigned disinterest to unravel at his feet.

"What, did you need five more minutes to mentally prepare to lose?"

It was the dumbest, cheapest shot ever – more than anything, it was a _childish_ shot, yet sure enough, Haruka's head snapped up with a narrow glare.

"Whatever," he said, and Rin knew he _had_ him.

"...I guess I'll go set up the finish line," Makoto sighed, reading the same response in Haruka's dissent; as he passed them by, Rin could have sworn the smile Makoto cast his way held a trace of tenderness, and it made him wonder just who Gou had talked to before she e-mailed him that night.

Not that he had time to linger on these suspicions for long; as inconsequential as the race actually was, Rin could tell from the vexed aura of silence around Haruka that he had entered a familiar state of stubbornness. As usual, this irritation turned out quite the formidable opponent – Rin only won because he had known to warm up beforehand.

"You only–– won because you'd–– you knew to warm up–– beforehand," Haruka protested in fragmented breaths, roughly three seconds after they crashed past the finish line. There was something very endearing to how high-pitched and defiant his voice came out, and before Rin could stop himself, he found his arm draped around Haruka's shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rin smiled impishly right in Haruka's face, and the resulting glare was nothing if not unimpressed.

But there was also an unmistakable flicker of tension that followed that stare, in the abrupt realization of how abrasively Rin had cut in on Haruka's personal space; Haruka's lips parted as if to respond, but as soon as their foreheads nudged together, he seemed to lose track of whatever he had meant to say.

Rin felt something in his stomach leap.

They were both used to this exact scene almost to the point of clichéd repetition, be it after practice, after a lousy joke, or simply a single, well-placed glare; but Haruka's sun-kissed skin suddenly felt unusually hot under his touch, and Rin realized he had forgotten to account for one crucial difference.

Namely, that

_(it's been a week since you touched him)_

His fingertips tensed on Haruka's shoulder.

_(a week since you kissed him)_

His throat ran dry.

_(but today you're not supposed to)_

With a violent start, Rin yanked back.

"H, hah, if you're so salty about it, we can always make it best out of three," he concealed his bewilderment in laughter, tugging at the hair at the back of his head; a light frown graced Haruka's features upon sensing the disconnection, but Rin gave him no chance to comment on it before he sprinted back towards the start.

Best out of three turned into best out of five, then out of 10.

In a sense, Rin was thankful for how easy it was to drown fluctuating hormones in a wave of adrenaline, but sometime during their 12th run it also became apparent to Rin that Haruka was testing his nerve.

 _If this is what you really want, I'll do it, but I'm going to beat you while I do,_ Haruka's entire posture screamed hunched up like a cat; by the time Makoto raised a lethargic hand for the 15th time, both Rin and Haruka managed roughly seven meters before they collided into each other out of sheer exhaustion.

"You're an idiot," Rin wheezed through his burning lungs, mentally forfeiting the final round in favour of staring at the cloudless sky like a beached starfish.

"And yet you wanted to do this," Haruka replied, admirably dead-pan for someone who couldn't even lift an arm.

For the life of him Rin couldn't tell if he was talking about the race, or Rin's entire universe.

 

 

 

"...Why are we here?"

Rin almost expected Makoto's voice to follow, but only the soft, muddled sounds of the restaurant echoed Haruka's sentiment.

After the race, Makoto had used his Get Out of Jail Free card; whether or not he actually had other matters to tend to was dubious at best, but Rin did not exactly fault him for wanting to bail as soon as their next destination revealed itself.

Rin cleared his throat and glanced at his notebook, trying not to leave sticky prints all over the paper. The heat radiating off the hot plates between them made his fingertips feel like honey.

" _Figure number two: a BBQ eating competition_ ," he paraphrased, beckoning at Haruka with his hand. "Well, considering your fucked up diet, I'm gonna let you opt for fish if that's how you'd rather do this. But the objective is this: whoever eats more, wins."

Silence.

 _Yes no yes no yes no_ looped in Rin's head on indefinite repeat while he searched for the tiniest sign of refusal on Haruka's face; Rin knew he was really pushing it with this one, but he wasn't exactly at liberty to bargain with the rules.

"Whoever eats more," Haruka finally sighed, "Probably dies."

Rin flashed him a relieved grin; the willingness to respond was always the proverbial tug on the bait, and Rin would try his damndest to run with it for as far as he could. "That's a risk I'm willing to take, to add to my collection of victories."

"Victor _y_ ," Haruka corrected, and Rin could tell he was struggling to hold back the instinctive annoyance in his voice, "...Which only happened because we never finished the 15th one. Because you ran your shoulder into my ribcage. Which is technically cheating."

"You know you can't blame all your shortcomings on me," Rin brushed him off lightly, vying for the attention of a waitress; scuttling over to their table, she appeared more than happy to indulge them on the weekend's all-you-can-eat offer, then hurried off to forward the order.

"...You're serious."

It was no longer a question; Haruka didn't waste time on the obvious.

"Hey, I'm just following the list," Rin replied, making an exaggerated effort at cracking his shoulder blades; it triggered a brief flash of curiosity on Haruka's face, but before he had time to process the ambiguous implication of Rin's words, the waitress returned.

 _Just follow the list_.

It's what Rin repeated to himself anew, willing down his self-preservation instinct once confronted with the amount of protein he had set himself up for. But diets be damned; today was exceptional in more ways than one, and it would all amount to nothing if Rin did not get over himself and commit.

"We've got fourty-five minutes," he said, twisting apart his chopsticks and pointing them decidedly at Haruka. "The one with more empty containers is the winner. If you throw up, you lose."

"Speak for yourself," Haruka muttered, but never once broke eye contact, and Rin knew he _had_ him.

Of course, it was a mistake.

Rin knew this, like he had never known anything in his life, as he found his forehead in a passionate love affair with the surface of the lacquered table roughly an hour later.

"This was a mistake," he addressed the obvious, because it really needed to be said: every time he closed his eyes, he felt like part of him was being teleported into some kind of messed up version of Charlie and the Chocolate factory, where each annoying kid was doused with meat.

Haruka's response came through a haze of heart burn and grill fumes. "Only because you lost."

"No, because it was fucking _stupid_ ," Rin groaned, trying to will enough life into his shoulders to push himself off the table; he had sorely miscalculated how much easier this would be for Haruka, whose natural fish consumption probably exceeded all levels of healthy on a daily basis.

"I still won, though." Haruka sounded defensive, voice almost juvenile with the sudden need to protect his first victory of the day.

Rin could feel his lips curving in a helpless grin.

(He caught himself, just in time, before he could lace their fingers together across the table; but he also could have sworn Haruka felt its absence, in the sudden twitch of his knuckles when the gesture never came.)

"Duly noted," Rin choked out in response; trying to distract himself, he reached out to grab his wallet, but came to a halt when Haruka leaned over the table to grab his forearm.

He wasn't looking at Rin when he spoke. "...I brought extra, so I'll get it."

Rin couldn't remember why it seemed like it somehow mattered, but it did.

 

 

 

"...Why are we here?"

If Rin had thought his digestion could handle an eating contest with a merry little waltz-off, the afternoon soon proved him wrong.

Mysteriously enough, he couldn't convince Haruka that he wasn't about to keel over in the nearest ditch. The _I'm f-fine, fuck, I'm–– urk_ 's and the _No, YOU'RE gonna pass out, your MOM is gonna–– urk_ 's may or may not have contributed to how persistently Haruka dragged Rin home to sleep off the worst of his binge; unsurprisingly, Rin had been asleep within minutes.

He hadn't meant to (there was still so much to do! He couldn't waste time sleeping!), but the late September warmth of had drained whatever remained of his energy, and Haruka's bed had always been nothing if not deceptive.

He had woken up with Haruka nestled up by his side, afternoon light undulating on his features like a soft gauze.

It had taken every ounce of willpower in Rin's body to not kiss him. It had taken–– everything he had, to not shrug off the plans for the rest of the day, because in that moment this whole exercise had felt childish and pointless enough to make him want to scream.

What was he trying to prove, exactly? Some kind of deranged point about cutting back on physical proximity, in case all this ridiculous relationship ever amounted to were the moments neither one of them stopped to ask themselves why they were really together at all?

Three weeks.

Three weeks and he couldn't even–– choke down that horrible, nagging insecurity he should have learnt how to let go of by now; the doubt always seemed to find new ways of manifesting itself, like a disease he could not completely rid himself of. Unless, of course, the whole reason why it remained with Rin whenever he found himself alone was precisely because it was...

_what difference does it make_

_the more time that you waste, the faster he'll realize what a mistake he's made_

(But then Haruka had stirred awake, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with the softness of fatigue that blended with the tiniest smile on his lips; _hey_ , he had breathed out, and like so many times before, it made Rin want to believe in something more, something better, something he could carve and shape with his own two hands.)

"Pick a tree."

Standing next to him now, Rin could almost picture the way Haruka's brow lifted in surprise.

"A tree?"

"A tree," Rin repeated, nodding at the thicket; the woods near Haruka's house spread wide enough to offer a wide range of canopy, so they hadn't needed to travel far. "Just choose one that's tall. Other than that, you can pick whichever."

Haruka eyed at him, but with curiosity rather than doubt; requiring no further persuasion, he treaded further into the woods, small twigs snapping under his feet. The light that filtered through the treetops riddled Haruka with oscillating shadows, and Rin realized it wasn't long now till the sun would begin to set.

"This one."

Haruka had come to a halt by a tall, winding tree. The trunk was thicker than anything either one of them could have wrapped their arms around, and he turned expectantly at Rin.

" _Figure number four_ ––" Rin began to read aloud from his notebook, but Haruka eyed at him sharply.

"What happened to figure number three?"

Slightly taken aback, Rin couldn't help how secretly pleased he felt to hear the obvious disappointment in Haruka's voice. Maybe it was stupid, but up until that moment he hadn't truly allowed himself to consider the possibility that Haruka was playing along for any other reason than obligation, and it left Rin feeling strangely... light.

"We didn't have time for that," he explained, trying not to let triumph colour his words; Haruka let out a noise that sounded a lot like _harrumph_ , and Rin took this as his cue to continue.

" _Figure four: carve your current heights into a tree._ "

All disdain drained out of Haruka in a heartbeat, his head snapping up with the speed of light.

"... _What_?"

"Yeah, I know, it's kinda pointless," Rin went on as he placed a hand on the tree bark, brushing off Haruka's confusion, "'Cause I'm the winner by default, and I doubt that's gonna change any time soon – well, unless you gain a mutant growth spurt in your later teens, from all the mercury you've digested over the years."

He paused, shooting Haruka a wry smile. "But that's what the list says."

"Rin––" Haruka began anew, but Rin had no intention of having this conversation with him right now; he hadn't been stupid enough to think Haruka wouldn't pick up on the implications the second those words left his mouth, but Rin wasn't ready to process the following emotional aftermath yet, and the day was far from over.

Instead, he grabbed Haruka's wrist, and flung his back against the tree with a soft thud. "I only found some super old switch blade that might be rusted as hell, but I think it's enough to leave a scratch."

He lifted an arm above Haruka's head, pretending not to notice the intensity in Haruka's stare; Rin had counted on him not to push it, the way Haruka never pushed anything, but it didn't mean he could ignore the subdued blue fire in his eyes.

(Didn't mean Rin couldn't sense Haruka holding his breath, like he was holding back whatever it was that he wanted to say; it trickled in the space between them, the meticulous care Rin put into trying to ignore how much he would have rather leaned into Haruka's shoulder and breathed in the familiar comfort of his scent.)

For that, Rin should have deserved a medal for not accidentally slicing off the top of Haruka's head.

"There, you're set."

Rin could tell his laughter sounded a little strained. He _felt_ strained, as the weight of the inevitable slowly began to seep in; either this would work, or it would be the dumbest idea Rin had ever had in his life.

The two of them traded places, and when Rin handed him the blade, Haruka wordlessly returned the favour. He did pause, momentarily, where he reached up to lean against Rin; from the way hesitation flickered in his gaze, Haruka must have been running a hundred thoughts in his head –or perhaps, just one– before ultimately choosing to follow Rin's example.

When he was done, they both stepped back to stare at the tree.

Sure enough, Rin's line came up slightly above Haruka's.

"I think that's two to one, in my favour," Rin said, and around them the woods bustled with the cries of the wind and years long gone.

Haruka still said nothing at all.

 

 

 

"...Why are we _here_?"

Rin wished he would have had an easier answer.

He turned around to find Haruka pulling his knees up on the seat, each gesture tentative and curious as though he had never seen the lookout behind his house in his life; somehow, this simple gesture alone was enough to send a nervous flutter through Rin's chest.

He hadn't really thought about what would happen once they found themselves reaching the end of the list. All throughout the day, he had been running blind on conviction like a solitary game of hide-and-seek, never once stopping to guess how he would feel when the element of bewilderment was no longer enough to tide Haruka by.

But it was too late not to find out.

" _Figure number five: find the best spot in Iwatobi to see the stars._ "

Haruka's head lifted, the evening breeze catching his hair.

"Well, technically, you chose this place," Rin went on, letting out a sheepish laugh. "I don't think you brought me here that one time just because it's close to where you live. I think it's because it's the best place to see everything and nothing all at once."

As he sat down next to Haruka, Rin stretched out his arms in feigned aloofness; it wasn't quite dark enough for stars yet, but the sun was quickly setting in the horizon, and as far as views went it was still a pretty damn amazing one. "Which I guess means you win this round, so we've got ourselves a tie."

Rin felt Haruka's figure tense up by his side, fingers instinctively gripping the edge of the seat like part of him was trying to ground himself to this moment.

Still, Haruka remained quiet.

Until he no longer did.

(His voice came out in a low, soft murmur, almost as though Haruka had finally managed to locate the one missing puzzle piece that pulled all the loose ends of the day together in a single, disjointed kaleidoscope.)

"...You wrote that list a long time ago."

Rin felt himself flinch; an instinctive part somewhere deep down panicked in haste, but the actual sting was softer than he had anticipated.

His shoulders relaxed. "...Here."

Years of travelling from one box to another had worn out the corners of the notebook he handed over. On the cover were hasty, grade-school level characters that spelled out the name _Matsuoka Rin_ ; beneath them, the class and number they had once shared together, in a life that lately seemed little more than a distant dream.

For a while Haruka kept staring at it.

When he turned the page, Rin made a conscious effort at avoiding his eyes.

_  
_

_ Things I want to do with ~~Nanase~~ Haru one day _

_1\. a 100 m sprint challenge!!!_

_2\. a competition on which one of us can eat more BBQ (this is gonna be easy!!!)_

_3\. prank nagisa!! (but does he ever get embarrassed???? or afraid??? i need to think of something GOOD)_

_4\. pick out a tree and carve your heights on it so you can see who gets taller later!!_

_5\. see who finds the best spot in Iwatobi where you can see all the stars!!!!_

 

"...Pretty stupid, huh? Kid me was kind of a dork."

The comfort of self-deprecating humour had never failed him, but Rin knew the effort was futile now. Haruka's entire figure was frozen in place, staring at that single page, and Rin kind of wanted to nudge him to check if he was alive.

"...You're still a dork," Haruka finally replied, but there was a trace of something unreadable to his tone; when he shifted, the shadows concealed part of his face. "...But I had fun today."

Something about the sound of Haruka's voice told Rin that he had not chosen his words at random, and he fought back the urge to avert his gaze.

"Young me would be thrilled to hear that," Rin managed, still unable to let go of the protective layer of jest; instead of retaliating, though, Haruka let out a tiny sigh.

"...And the older you?"

His hand reached out to touch Rin's arm; there was something very reassuring to the touch, like a patience no longer tethered to a chain. "...How many challenges does he need to win, to prove to himself that I'm not going anywhere?"

Rin felt his eyes widen, but the surprise flowed through him with unexpected ease. "How the hell did you––"

"I'm not stupid, Rin."

Normally, Rin could have easily contested this statement, but it was unexpectedly stern. Turning his head, Haruka let his eyes trail along the swiftly draining colours of the sunset, brow furrowing in concentration. "...You could have just told me. If you're worried somehow all–– _this_ will change it. Our friendship."

Rin leaned his head back.

Was it wrong that it kind of annoyed him, for Haruka to make it sound so _simple_?

"I did," he said, realizing that even at the risk of upsetting Haruka, he could not lie. "I _tried_ telling you, y'know, a week ago? But then you went all Queen of England on me and I–– what was I supposed to say?"

He gestured lightly, attracting Haruka's gaze anew. "That I _don't_ want this? 'Cos that's not true. But that I also–– don't want it to be _everything_ there is? 'Cos it kind of–– shit, I don't even know how any of that makes sense."

"...It makes sense," Haruka replied, speaking with unusual silence; to Rin's relief he did not sound upset, but there was also something so helpless to that single sentiment that it made Rin want to groan out of frustration – made him call for a time out on this entire drawn-out experiment and simply yank Haruka against his chest.

"It's _not you_ ," he hissed in Haruka's ear, his own powerlessness seeping through in a burst of frustrated vigor, "You haven't–– You never––"

Rin swore, trying to coax himself calm. "All I wanted to know is if you'd still have fun with me, without all the–– if I couldn't just rely on the other stuff all the time."

He exhaled into Haruka's hair, willing down the flustered way his heart kept beating with embarrassment in the aftermath of his confession. "...I just wanted to know if you still liked hanging out with that dumb kid, y'know, from back when we were twelve."

In his arms, Haruka stirred; Rin almost wanted to protest on instinct as he pulled back, but the renewed tranquility in Haruka's expression made him halt his tongue.

"...Then, I'm happy you let me spend a day with the younger you. Even if younger me would have hated each and every contest. But still."

Whether it was joined by a grimace or a grin, Rin suddenly couldn't stop the laughter that began to bubble up at Haruka's bluntness; only his was ever honest enough to brush off Rin's distress without a trace of pity. "Is that so?"

"Well." Haruka paused, pensive, then glanced up anew.

Something inside Rin twisted in hundreds of little knots upon finding an honest, genuine smile on his face.

"I think he also would have loved it," Haruka said. "Because it would have meant doing them with you."

And Rin could have thought up something to counter it with; maybe a snarky remark, or just a sound that concealed his flustered reaction in disdain; but there was no anxiety that followed with the inevitable embarrassment of Haruka's words, only flooding Rin's bones with warmth.

(Flooding them with the same fire that wrecked havoc on Rin's nerves whenever the two of them kissed, only softer)

but as his arms snaked around Haruka's shoulders, as he leaned in and traded his response for a chance to catch Haruka's lips, Rin was surprised to learn the combination infused him with a calmness he couldn't recall having felt in months.

When Haruka broke the kiss, the sound that left him was almost like a gasp; Rin sort of expected Haruka to shoot him down with a glare for the abrupt display of affection, but instead, he looked like he had suddenly remembered something far more important.

"Was–– was there more?"

At first, Rin completely failed to connect the thought. " _Huh_?"

Haruka shook his head with familiar impatience, as if Rin was being purposefully obtuse. "The list. It... this one only had five things on it. Was there more?"

Rin closed his eyes.

"Maybe," he said,

(because the truth was that Rin had never really stopped keeping a list, as elaborate and painfully embarrassing as the one of his gullible middle school days; only now his dreams were woven by the early morning hours, drenched with the heat of the dawning sun and the pulse of Haruka's heart under his fingertips, and in those moments Rin always felt ashamed and relieved at how little he had changed.)

"...And?"

Rin opened his eyes anew at the sound of Haruka's expectant tone, and shot him a dubious look. "...You're not actually expecting me to tell you?"

Haruka shrugged, once more making it sound like a lot simpler than it was. "You don't have to."

Reverse psychology. Always a favourite.

But perhaps today truly _was_ exceptional, in more ways than one; whether it lasted for thirty seconds, five minutes, or the rest of this evening that had somewhere waded into a star-filled night, Haruka's brazen nerve felt to Rin like the final challenge of the day.

"Screw you," he breathed out in a defeated groan, but could not stop his smile from giving him away.

Tugging at Haruka's shoulders until Haruka got the hint and leaned his back against Rin's chest, he nodded towards the sky. Haruka's hair tickled on his cheek, but Rin tried to will himself to focus before he lost his gall.

"...Okay, so," he drew in a courageous breath, "One of the things kid me and I've got in common is... we both wanted to go see stars with you. Like, do that thing in all those cheesy tv dramas where I impress you by pointing out all the different ones in the sky."

Laughter entered his words where he shook his head, leaning it against Haruka's temple. "Which would probably be a little easier if I actually knew shit about constellations."

"...You could try anyway," he heard Haruka mutter, feeling a pair of hands fastening over his where they still lay around Haruka's waist; Rin's brows briefly knit together in confusion, but recognition soon dawned on his face.

He disentangled one hand, randomly pointing his finger at the sky.

"...Well, y'know, over there we've got the _Nagisa Minor_ ," he said, mustering as much scholarly wisdom in his voice as possible, "See? From that beady little star that crosses over to that slightly bigger one. It overlaps with the _Iwatobi-chan_ constellation by that little cluster over there."

Haruka let out a sound that sounded a lot like a snort; his arm rose to brush at Rin's, directing it a little to the left.

"...I think you're mistaking the wing of the _Iwatobi-chan_ constellation for the tail of the _Were-Mackerel_."

Rin lightly bumped Haruka's leg with his knee. "Are you trying to school me on my fake constellations, Nanase? Besides, you gotta be blind – that's not the tail, that's the tip of the _Orca Borealis_. Shit, you of all people should recognize such a big star."

Haruka's shoulders buckled with suppressed laughter, and his hair burrowed further into Rin's shoulder as he let his muscles relax. "...Is there a dolphin constellation, too?"

Rin hadn't anticipated the question, and it briefly made him hesitate. Letting the jest drain from his voice, he chose to respond with honesty.

"...There is, actually. There's an entire constellation family called _Heavenly Waters_. The _Delphinus_ is located in the northern sky."

He felt Haruka's entire body tensing up.

"...I thought you said you don't know anything about constellations."

"I said _I_ don't," Rin stated wryly, absent-mindedly toying with strands of Haruka's hair, "But if the younger me once looked it up in Australia, just to see which parts of the night sky he was still sharing with you, who was I to stop him?"

He had meant it as another self-ironic joke, but it was harder to sound dismissive of the things that were true; Rin swallowed as the fingers grazing his forearm came to a sudden halt.

"Rin, I..."

It was unusual for Haruka to trail off this way; more often than not, he did not speak at all until he was exactly sure of what he wanted to say, yet Rin could hear warring nerves in his tone.

Whatever Haruka had felt conflicted over never materialized in words.

"...Never mind," he breathed out, like there was something stuck in his throat. Haruka buried his face on the side of Rin's arm, and Rin temporarily wondered if this was how side-stepping his own feelings always translated to Haruka as well.

(But it was also why Rin realized he did not want to _pry_ ,

because for something to render Haruka so tongue-tied, it must not have been something he was ready to share; if anyone, it was Rin who knew how important it was to have time to come to terms with those tiny fragments of life that you couldn't quite make sense of yet.)

"...We should head back before it gets colder," he whispered in Haruka's ear, and the smallest of nods followed in response.

Afterwards, Rin couldn't truly pinpoint what had changed, or how. Something wistful clung to Haruka's entire figure like a throwback to the night Rin had first stayed over, but what seeped out of him wasn't sadness.

(Wasn't _regret_ , or any of the flickers of doubt Rin normally would have read into his silence; because when Haruka clung to him that night, cradling the side of his face as though reclaiming each kiss lost in the hours of today, there was an unmistakable acceptance to every gesture. Like somehow, to Haruka, all of this –the waves of genuine emotion, everything that had always risked washing Rin overboard– was a _privilege_ , rather than a liability.)

Three weeks.

Three weeks, and Rin knew that part of him was growing worse each day; growing more audacious, more confident, more needy in ways that he hadn't known falling in love with someone could trigger.

But for the first time in three weeks he also wasn't sure if this was necessarily something he had to anticipate with dread;

_because it doesn't matter what he does, or how he does it_

_as long as he's doing it with you_

He lay awake for most of that night, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: _Everyone knows a couple is allowed to be happy for a maximum of three episodes_ , a.k.a life won't stay this serene forever.
> 
> (For anyone interested in the future of this fic, what I have to say is this: I will continue to write the rest of the second year while _Free! Eternal Summer_ airs, but will not touch 3rd year before it finishes. I always had plans to include Sosuke in my story, but find it impossible to write him in before seeing his actual characterization on the show. I doubt this will influence my updates much, though; there's still a lot regarding the the 2nd year I have to say before we breach graduation, and I want to try and intertwine my interpretation with canon as much as I possibly still can.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never meant to take this long to finish editing the draft of this chapter, but you know how it goes. Still, part of me is glad I have been so busy, because watching Season 2 has turned out so much more rewarding than I anticipated - I wrote the draft of this chapter long before episodes 9, 10 and 11, but they have only confirmed my faith in the direction I am going with this story. Everything I ever planned is still something I can and will do, but Season 2 has allowed me to re-evaluate the order and pace that some of it happens in.
> 
> Because here's the thing.
> 
> I'm not going to re-write Season 2.
> 
> I'm going to run this story into it, inevitable factual inaccuracies notwithstanding, so that when you read and watch them in succession, they will fit together like I always intended to do with this story and Season 1.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the rest of this ride.

 

 

Hey.

_...Hey._

You remember, don't you?

_What?_

That night in September.

_......?_

The stars. You remember the stars, don't you? And the sky, stretching on like a dream.

_...I guess._

You knew back then, didn't you.

_...Knew what?_

What it meant.

_......_

It won't be long, now.

_I don't care._

But he will.

_It doesn't matter._

But he does.

_...Just leave me alone._

I thought you didn't want to be alone.

_I'm..._

Hey.

_Hey?_

Come on, it's time to wake up.

 

 

 

The sky should not have been so wide.

Someone had once said that the only difference between the sky and the ocean lay in boundless possibility. He had thought of this, sometimes; the way the grey, muted canvas beyond his reach almost resembled a sea without a shore.

But the sky should not have been so vast, and so limitless; not once had he feared the uncertainty of engulfing water, but somewhere at the recesses of his mind, he had never really perceived the sky as anything other than a void.

"H, Haru?!"

And then the void was gone.

Makoto's face blocked Haruka's field of vision the moment he crouched over, a strange panic setting in his eyes. It reminded him of–– something, but through his daze Haruka couldn't trace the exact memory of Makoto's face.

For a moment, Makoto hesitated. Caught between worry and commotion, he leaned closer to speak in hushed tones.

"Are–– are you alright? It... looked like you hit your head when you fell."

 _I'm fine_ , Haruka wanted to respond, but all that came out of his mouth was, _ugh_.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Rei seizing hold of Nagisa's arm. As the world began to shape back into focus, a dull throb at the back of Haruka's head made him blink; it was still easy enough to grab Makoto's tentative, outstretched hand, but the second Haruka pushed against gravity, a stabbing pain shot through his ankle.

"Haru-chan!!"

Breaking Haruka's stagger, Makoto mustered up his most reassuring smile to keep Nagisa at bay. Holding Haruka by the shoulders, he must have sensed the irritation in Haruka's muscles like a wordless sign.

"It's alright," Makoto breathed out. "I'll... I'll take Haru to the nurse's office."

At the sound of this, Haruka's mind cleared up at once.

As little as he cared for Nagisa or Rei's open concern, it was downright nonsensical and excessive to bother with the nurse. So what if his head was aching and his foot could barely land any weight; in a matter of weeks the faculty would prepare the pools for Winter, and every minute out of the water was another minute wasted.

 _It doesn't matter if I can't walk, as long as I can still swim_ , Haruka wanted to respond, but all that still came out of his mouth was, _ugh_.

In Makoto's defense, few people could have shrugged off Haruka's disgruntled stare with such ease. Not that the circumstances weren't also on Makoto's side – trailing down the hallway, supported by Makoto's arm, the ache in Haruka's head kept blurring his thoughts together in a way that made it hard to argue.

For this, he was grateful that Makoto also took it upon himself to explain to the nurse what had transpired.

_He slipped on a wet surface. Seems like he twisted his ankle, but I think he also hit his head._

The young nurse kept nodding away as she lightly applied pressure on various parts of Haruka's foot. When she finally bound a supportive ligature around the sensitive joint, Haruka let out a relieved breath: he had sprained his ankle before, grit his teeth through the pain, and let the weightlessness of water heal whatever time did not.

Yet the nurse failed to let go of his foot.

"Your ankle should be fine in a couple of days," she said, holding Haruka's gaze with honest concern. "But you may have suffered from a concussion. You should head home and get some rest, but it would be best if someone spent the rest of the night with you, too."

Something about the tone of her voice... felt familiar, like an ominous neon sign that flickered on and off in the dark. That sideways glance at her documents, another one at Haruka; it still felt like a memory he was fumbling to grasp, but he––

Haruka's eyes shot up.

_(No)_

––he _recognized_ those words, and the ones that would follow in the three, two, one seconds as the nurse opened her mouth anew.

"Makoto can do it," Haruka cut her off, before she ever got that far.

He could feel the nurse's grip falter at his sudden bluntness. "Oh, I meant––" she said, taken aback, "I was going to ask your homeroom teacher to contact your––"

Haruka shrugged her off and pushed back to his feet.

It still stung to lean weight on his injured ankle, but at least the ligature allowed Haruka to limp out of the office. He could literally feel the stunned nurse gawking at his back, while a perplexed Makoto scrambled to followed in tow; when Makoto called out for him, his voice echoed in the empty corridor like a plea.

"H–– Haru, wait, I don't think––"

The hand that reached out was uncharacteristically direct for Makoto, yet all the same it pulled Haruka to a halt.

"Haru, I–– I can't."

Haruka whirled around, unprepared to discover the apologetic fluster on Makoto's face. The voice that accompanied that expression sounded strangely out of breath. "...I can't come home with you today. I've... I already made plans."

There was nothing combative to Makoto's tone, his implication sinking in with an unexpected start. The late afternoon light threw shadows on his tall frame, accentuating the flurry of his conflicting emotions; a nervous twitch flickered in Makoto's smile, embarrassed as it was also regretful, and it briefly left Haruka feeling as disjointed and cut off as the muted sky.

"Oh," he said.

"I don't think you should be alone tonight, though," Makoto went on, a cautious edge dragging down each word until his eyes lit up with renewed hope. "But I could–– I should call Rin."

This time, the neon sign flicked away in the dark too late.

(It washed out all trace of bewilderment in Haruka's body, his former unease amplifying at the sound of Rin's name; he could blame it on his injuries, or the inability to process Makoto's rejection, but the truth was that the answer came to Haruka so effortlessly because it was the only one he had.)

"No."

Makoto's eyes widened with genuine surprise. "...No?"

"Don't," Haruka said anew, something rigid holding his tongue and making his vowels come out in sharp bursts. "Call Rin."

"Haru––?"

"I'm going home."

Any further protests died in the distance Haruka put between them, forcing his aching feet back into motion.

Of course it wasn't fair to take this out on Makoto; Haruka didn't like himself any more than Makoto did, in these moments of blind disregard. But the ache in his head had strained his already thin strip of patience, and nothing about this afternoon was making any sense.

As he turned to head for the changing room, he could hear Makoto letting out a sigh.

It came out unusually lifeless, like an echo of Haruka's footsteps in the hall.

 

 

 

The funny thing about time is that it becomes subjective.

Haruka had never really paid much thought to how long it took to walk home from school. The minutes had always seemed short when drained by Makoto's chatter, the slowly waning day trickling down his back; making the same trek alone with each step sending a jolt of flames up Haruka's spine painted the memory as little more than a cruel joke.

Then again, almost two months into the second term, Haruka had also been forced to discover the meaning of patience unlike anything before. Weekdays still dragged on forever, a necessary evil as far as the relentless Samezuka schedule was concerned; being apart had certainly become easier the further Autumn pulled on, but there were plenty of days on which Haruka had hoped for nothing more than to discover Rin waiting at his doorstep after practice.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

What Haruka had _wanted_ was to get home, retreat into his tub, and spend the rest of the day nursing both his headache and his foot. As soon as he caught sight of Rin straightening up by the doorway like a storm had hit him, though, this particular fantasy evaporated in a puff of smoke.

"Have you any idea how many times I've tried to get hold of you?!"

 _Have you any idea how loud you are?_ Haruka couldn't help thinking as he brushed past Rin, unlocking the door. He didn't specifically invite Rin in, but he knew better than to bother; the frown plastered across Rin's brow was nothing if not foreboding, second only in nuisance to Haruka's swollen ankle.

The pounding at the back of Haruka's head resounded with Rin's temper, fueling the bluntness of his honesty. "Makoto wasn't supposed to call you."

Rin's cheek twitched as he followed Haruka inside.

"You probably should have let Nagisa in on the memo, then," he replied dryly, gesturing at Haruka's leg. "...You know he texted me, saying you'd broken your foot."

Rin's lack of awe at Haruka's miraculously healed limb implied that a tiny rumour mill must have worked its magic to correct him; whether this was indeed Makoto, or Rei doing damage control on Nagisa's behalf, it annoyed Haruka all the same.

"Then you shouldn't have believed him."

Haruka shrugged off his bag like he shrugged off his shoes, calculating the time it would take to finish this conversation and reach the bathroom. Five minutes? Ten minutes? They went through pointless arguments like this all the time, but he had little patience for it now.

"You mean, considering _you_ weren't going to tell me shit?!" Rin snapped in response, his voice a mirror of frustration; the defensiveness was one that Haruka recognized, and it made him want to groan.

So maybe he should have seen this coming. Maybe Haruka should have _known_ Rin was bound to kick up a storm, with or without a legitimate reason; still, he had hoped it could have waited until his natural aversion to communicate was not also progressively hampered by a swollen ankle and a mariachi band in his head.

Worn out and irate, Haruka turned around. It wasn't until then that he realized Rin had neither left the entryway nor taken off his shoes.

"You're not supposed to be here," Haruka muttered, meaning the words like an earnest epiphany. Rin was clearly taking gratuitous liberties by being in Iwatobi in the first place; it wouldn't make any sense for him to get in trouble for what was essentially a gigantic overreaction.

Unfortunately, the jump from indifference to sincerity had never been one Rin had handled well.

"Yeah, well, I'll make sure to remember that," Rin said, and the strange urgency of his tone struck Haruka as ominous, "You know, the next time something happens to you, and I get to find out with a fucking five months' delay!"

Haruka took a deep breath, mustering up whatever was left of his patience.

"Rin. I'm fine. Go home."

The last thing he cared about right now was to explain his reasons for not wanting to involve Rin – this wasn't _about_ Rin, or his stupid self-entitlement, but the increasing godforsaken pounding in Haruka's head, tearing away at each of his nerves until––

"I called your mom."

Haruka's hand froze on the doorframe.

When he turned his head, Rin wasn't holding his gaze; the expression he wore still spoke of defiance, but it was also shadowed by a dawning realization of doubt.

"Before I found out what had actually happened, I thought–– Makoto's parents agreed it was best if your mom and dad knew in case you really had broken a bone."

Haruka remained quiet. Slowly, his fingers gripped the frame tighter.

"You called my mother," he repeated.

"Haru––" Rin began anew, but held his tongue as soon as he took in the blankness of Haruka's face.

In that moment, Haruka couldn't say for sure what it was that he felt. A funny, eerie little emotion was snaking its way up his spine with a chill he couldn't deflect, gnawing away at the side of him that in these past couple of months had lulled into the sweet pretense of peace.

"Look–– You're still a minor, okay?" Rin's voice broke the silence, wavering with something akin to sudden dread, "If something bad happened to you, I wouldn't be able to––"

"––You had no right."

The stiltedness of Haruka's tone was enough to silence Rin at once.

"You had _no right_ ," Haruka said again, and it burst out like a gunshot; the abrupt vitriol stemmed forth from a nearly hysterical disbelief, strong enough to ball his hands into fists.

A mixed annoyance crossed Rin's face, as if he was unable to decide whether he felt more reprimanded than assailed.

"What the hell was I supposed to do?" he choked out, overwhelmed at Haruka's open hostility, "I couldn't get hold of you _or_ Makoto, Nagisa said you were hurt, I didn't–– Haru, I was only trying to––"

" _Help_?" Haruka said, laced with venom so thick he could have sworn Rin actually winced.

For a brief flash of troubled confusion, the look in Rin's eyes reminded Haruka of Makoto. Of the nurse in the office. Of everyone–– all the people Haruka had ever lashed out at with unharnessed grudge; but for the first time in longer than he could remember, he could also feel a tether around him coming undone.

(Because it made him think of the night, under this very roof, when he had momentarily relinquished all the barriers that kept his ghosts at bay; when Rin had reached out, asked no questions, and dissolved those demons into his warmth; when Haruka had thought, if only for a flickering heartbeat, that Rin actually _understood_ ––)

Haruka swallowed, and his throat felt as bitter as it felt hoarse.

( _You don't you don't you don't you don't you don't you_

 _understand **anything at all**_ )

...Why was it so easy, anyway?

Easier, than Haruka could have ever imagined, to speak those words like absolution through reclaimed control; because once Rin's shoulders tensed in provocation, when his jaw tightened to spit out an indignant _People were only worried about you, Haru, so why do you need to be such a fucking ass about it?!,_ an enticing coldness gripped Haruka's bones.

"I'm sorry," he calmly replied. "I forgot hurting others was something only you're allowed to do."

The surprise cut away at Rin like a short-circuit in his brain.

"––That's," he began, blinking once, then twice, before his expression washed over with something privately pained.

Rin never found the words to finish.

When he turned around, an unconscious part of Haruka's body twitched in an instinctive need to reach out for Rin's back; the part that he couldn't silence even in the worst of his anger, the one that wanted to stop time, and diminish the way his stomach lurched at the sight of Rin's guard splitting in two.

But a selfish resentment also held Haruka frozen in place, torn between childishness and betrayal as if this was exactly what he had wanted––

_like you wanted to h u r t him too_

––and as the triumph and shame and elation and regret snaked within his heart, their combined weight rendered him still.

(As the door softly closed in Rin's wake, all Haruka could think of was the blistering sun; the touch of a finish line, a muted cheering in the distance, and a rain of cold droplets on his skin.)

 

 

 

Afterwards, two hours and thirty three minutes passed.

In those two hours and thirty three minutes, the following happened:

His headache dulled to a gentle numbness.

The sky went from grey to charcoal.

The bathwater scalded his knuckles.

He made dinner, then ate it alone.

Haruka had assumed Makoto would call eventually, to check in and wind him back to reality, but for two hours and thirty three minutes Haruka's phone remained untouched. He made a conscious note of deleting the entire backlog (twelve missed calls and a barrage of messages, all dated before Rin's arrival), but an eerie silence reflected each minute off the display.

Quarter past seven in the evening, the doorbell finally rang.

But it wasn't Makoto.

Nor was it Nagisa, or even Rei; it wasn't Rin, either, which probably relieved and disappointed Haruka at the same time.

Instead, the person who stood there in the faint October breeze was Gou.

"Can I come in?" she asked with an air of soft caution; it took Haruka aback for a split second, but considering any Matsuoka was probably better than no Matsuoka at all, he also couldn't think of a single reason to decline.

Haruka thought of this again, some fifteen minutes later, watching Gou's vibrant hair sway lightly when she clasped a cup of tea in her hands. A soft rain had finally started falling, and the gentle rattle accentuated the sound of Gou drawing in her breath.

"You shouldn't be angry with Makoto-senpai," she began, matter-of-factly. "He only spoke to oniichan once his parents thought you broke your foot."

Gou bit on her lip, then went on, unabashed. "If Makoto-senpai had called oniichan sooner, though, oniichan probably wouldn't have called your mom."

In spite of himself, Haruka gave a light start.

Realizing this, Gou hastily waved an apologetic hand. "Oh, I'm sorry–– this is probably really rude of me," she blurted out, "But I... I only know because Makoto-senpai decided to go and talk to oniichan. So I offered to come and talk to you."

"...There was no need," Haruka heard himself counter; by all logic, he should have meant it, too. Yet whether it was the abrupt silence of the past three or so hours, or the unarming way Gou bunched up her skirt in her fists, it seemed near impossible to look her in the eye and tell her to mind her own business.

...Had Makoto been banking on that all along?

"I'm not trying to make excuses for oniichan," Gou went on, yanking Haruka out of his thoughts. "He's always been impulsive and brash. I guess he must have panicked twice as much, though, because it was... well, you."

She blushed lightly, then waved it off with a laugh before offering Haruka an empathetic, firm nod. "Either way, he shouldn't have gone and done something like that behind your back."

"No," Haruka echoed flatly. "He shouldn't have."

(Because what Rin should have done, was to _know_ ; to understand that regardless of all the exceptions Haruka had made for him, there were still boundaries Rin wasn't allowed to cross. To realize how _humiliating_ it was for Haruka, watching Rin throw all that trust in his face – as if it hadn't mattered, as if divulging that particular vulnerability had not been one of the most private things Haruka had ever done.)

"...But, Haruka-senpai, do you feel it was fair?"

When Haruka glanced at Gou, she was staring at her hands. She didn't sound combative, any more than Makoto had done earlier today, but something about her tone nonetheless stung.

"...Not telling oniichan about your accident, I mean," Gou continued, a frown settling on her brow, "Because if someone I cared about a lot got hurt and I didn't know, I'd be upset. I'd be–– livid, even, and worried out of my mind."

"...Wouldn't that just be you being selfish?"

He wasn't sure why he said it. He'd thought of it, certainly, but more often than not the thoughts Haruka entertained in the privacy of his own mind never actually materialized into words. But there was something about Gou's own honesty – the way she made no effort to conceal her heart left Haruka oddly... blindsided.

The surprise that lit up on Gou's face soon softened into a small, brave smile, devoid of any offense.

"That's probably a risk I'd be willing to take," she said, "To make sure the person I cared about didn't have to go through it alone."

Haruka allowed his gaze to trail off.

"...What if that person only wanted to be left alone?"

(What if all they ever wanted, was to deal with things in solitude; to deal with them in time, to deal with them _on their own_?)

"And what if they were?"

There was a peculiar sharpness to Gou's tone this time around; when Haruka turned his head, she held his gaze without fear.

It made Haruka instinctively glance at his phone, lying there in taunting silence; it made him recall the memory he had failed to trace on Makoto's face.

(It made him finally piece together the frustration that weighed him down since today's injury – so reminiscent of a grey day once upon a time in Winter, when Haruka had woken up in a hospital bed to the raw concern in Rin's eyes.)

 _I never want to see that pity again for as long as I live_ , he wanted to tell Gou, but there was no way she could have understood.

"I know you probably see it as pity," Gou sighed, and Haruka almost swallowed his own tongue, "...But it's not. It's about sharing things, the good _and_ the bad – because we can't choose to only care about the parts we like the most. That's... that's what being with someone is all about."

The final part of her sentence came out like a recital, and she flushed once she realized this. But it wasn't her sheepishness, or the peculiarly rehearsed lines copied out of comic book novels that Haruka stilled at; it was but a single word that grasped him, reawakening the familiar resentment and pride.

...Sharing?

Who was Gou to talk to him about _sharing_?

What _else_ had Haruka done in these past few months besides shared things with other people – shared his _everything_ with Rin? Hadn't he even gone as far as to entrusting Rin with ( _his time his space his bed his solitude_ ) the only thing that mattered the most in this world – the water Haruka had always considered his own?

_how much more am I supposed to give_

_before there's nothing more left of me?_

"I don't owe Rin anything."

He said it to himself, as much as he ever said it Gou. He said it, because beneath the spark of defiance, he also _needed_ it to be true; how else was he meant to justify all this anger and the disappointment towards Rin, how else could he stop himself from having to _think_ ––

(of the elation of retribution, and why in the slow hours of the afternoon it never came;

of the restlessness he had not been able to stifle, making him unable to either zone out or concentrate;

_like the time a chain link fence dug into the spine of your back, and you felt just as justified in your self-defense_

_so what exactly did you win back then, that you've also won here today?_ )

Haruka suddenly could not meet Gou's eye.

"I think you owe him a chance to talk this out," she sighed, oblivious to the change in Haruka's silence, "...But it's getting late, and the visitation hours are probably over. So maybe it's best to just let the dust settle for tonight."

When the sound of clapping hands gave them both a start, Gou reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. "Oh, speaking of which. I think Makoto-senpai's heading home. He's asking how your head is, and if you remembered to have dinner."

Haruka couldn't say why he felt so small, just then.

"...Wasn't Makoto supposed to have plans today?"

(He knew Gou's response, even before a hint of sadness trailed her forcefully upbeat smile.)

"He was," she softly replied, and the complete lack of blame in her voice made Haruka feel worst of all.

 

 

 

Rin's brow twitched, then smoothed, then scrunched up.

Standing in the doorway, he opened his mouth, then shook his head. He must have soon given up trying to make sense of how Haruka had materialized in the dorms at this hour, shivering in rain-soaked clothes and staring at Rin's feet, because in the end he only opted for a long sigh.

Behind Rin, Haruka noticed Nitori rolling his bedding beneath his arm. Climbing down the top bunk, Nitori stopped to shoot Rin a long glance.

"Yeah, yeah," Rin muttered, "I know, I'll do your English homework for the next two weeks, alright?"

When Nitori failed to budge, Rin groaned. " _Fine_ , three weeks, then."

Something almost triumphant tugged the side of Nitori's mouth as he passed Haruka and disappeared into the hallway. It may have been but a small solace, but Haruka was still relieved to note at least _one_ person partially benefited from this completely over-blown fight today.

"...Tch, that guy," Rin muttered as he ran a hand through his bangs to hide his bewilderment, "It's not like I _asked_ half of Iwatobi SC to show up in one night, is it...?"

The lightness in Rin's tone was a bizarre substitute for his earlier aggravation. Whatever he and Makoto had talked about had clearly dispelled the majority of Rin's unease. As much as Haruka hated to admit it, it jolted him with a tiny sting of envy – it wasn't _fair_ that Makoto had such a calming effect on Rin, when all Haruka ever seemed to do was leave burning rubble in his wake.

To conceal the awkward distance between them, Rin rubbed at the back of his neck. "How's your foot?"

Haruka lifted his eyes at Rin's question, then glanced away.

All the things he had thought he wanted to say now sounded painfully stilted in his head. The resolve that had sent Haruka trespassing back to Samezuka even after the confiscation of his guest pass had not taken the possibility of an amicable Rin into account; in a sense, he had _relied_ on Rin being upset, to help guide the momentum of his frustration.

(Because in the shadow of their conflict something far more vulnerable still lingered in the air, waiting for the moment he could no longer run from the implications of what he had said to Rin; the longer they kept tip-toeing around it, the more a tiny fragment within Haruka kept eating itself alive.)

"Why aren't you more angry?"

The pang of desperation in Haruka's voice caught both of them off guard, bringing Rin's hand to a halt.

"I was–– I mean, I _am_ ––" Rin stumbled, his response as dumbfounded as the look on his face, "Shit, Haru, I'm not saying I wasn't pissed off, too––"

Something held his tongue at the last minute, and a bittersweet acceptance entered Rin's voice. "...But you know I probably deserved that."

For a moment Haruka couldn't even breathe.

The honesty in Rin's resignation was so palpable he could have almost touched it. It wasn't the first time Rin had willingly placed his vulnerabilities at Haruka's feet, yet Haruka had never quite felt as painfully aware of the power he possessed over Rin's fragile faith in his hands.

And in that moment, what Haruka felt was fear;

(an abrupt, paralyzing fear towards the bitterness Rin had triggered in him today, so reminiscent of the time he had nearly screamed at his mother over the phone; because no lie, no excuse or martyr-like plea could hide the fact that in his retaliation, Haruka had _wanted_ to hurt Rin, like he would do again, simply because he could.)

Haruka didn't realize his shoulders were trembling before he felt Rin's hands coming down to gently steady them, mistaking it for a shiver.

"H, hey. You'll catch a cold like that, idiot."

A primal instinct somewhere deep down Haruka wanted to shrug off Rin's hands, push them back, push him away. The warmth of Rin's touch was so at odds with the detachment he had felt all day, cutting off one link after another until he no longer had anyone left to hide behind.

"I'm..." Haruka said, and the dull ache in his head returned.

_I just don't_

_I don't know what I'm supposed to_ **do**

"Haru––" Rin began, but was silenced by Haruka gripping his wrists.

He staggered backwards the moment Haruka pushed up against him, crushing their lips together like a desperate attempt to silence the voices in his head. Stunned, Rin instinctively leaned back in without protest; the moment their skin connected, a jolt of familiar urgency reared its head with all the pent-up tension Haruka had tried to stifle all day.

_it's alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright_

_just don't_

_just don't **think**_

Rin's back hit his desk, and the weight that landed on Haruka's ankle made him hiss against Rin's mouth. It was only a momentary distraction, but in a simple flick of his hand Rin dislodged Haruka's grip and grabbed him by the wrist instead.

"Wh–– what the hell, Haru?!"

The confusion in Rin's voice caught onto the fight in Haruka's body, draining it with a weary ease. Letting his head slump on Rin's shoulder, Haruka drew in even, steady breaths to will down the panic tugging at his chest.

"H, Haru. Come on. _Say_ something."

Rin's voice came at the base of his ear now, still bewildered yet firm; when his arms slowly traced the curve of Haruka's spine and braced him for support, something small and exhausted within Haruka wanted to close his eyes and never move for as long as he lived.

If he stayed here, in this moment, in this warmth that he had grown to recognize as his own, then maybe––

(maybe he wouldn't have to hurt Rin again;

maybe he wouldn't have to hurt Makoto again;

maybe he wouldn't have to find out what happened on the day when his resentment finally spilled over, unharnessed and irrational like all the memories that had ever fueled his isolation, justifying these bursts of anger as if he didn't _know_ ––)

_that the one you're angry at_

_is you_

"...Haru."

If there was a source of profound patience, Rin must have certainly discovered it tonight. An unmistakable hesitation still clung to his words, but never once did his grip come loose, as though determined to keep Haruka from spilling apart.

"...Look," Rin went on, his tone gentle yet low. "I know if you were someone else, or if I was someone else, this whole thing–– it'd probably have gone way differently. Maybe you'd have called me first. Maybe I wouldn't have freaked out. Maybe we'd be like those couples on TV, where people show up with gifts and shit and take care of one another instead of screaming in each other's face."

When Rin shook his head, his hair brushed at Haruka's cheek.

"I know I fucked up. And I'm sorry. But you can't–– keep doing this _thing_ , where you cut me out of the bad stuff in your life."

 _We can't choose to only care about the parts we like the most_ , the echo of Gou's voice danced in Haruka's mind, and he felt something in his throat tighten.

He had always thought he had made the hardest choice in choosing to share the water, but what if––

_(what if it's not enough_

_if you cannot share yourself)_

Whether or not Rin expected an answer, Haruka wouldn't have had one to give. There were so many things he wanted to tell Rin, to try and make sense of that terrible animosity within him that he could not understand; but an equally strong side of him wanted to protect Rin, from everything he couldn't control yet, and only told him the one thing Haruka knew without a shadow of a doubt in his heart.

"...Can I stay with you tonight?"

He felt Rin shift, and the pressure of his hand on Haruka's back grew stronger.

"...Well I wouldn't want the guard catching you on your way out," Rin said, and the softness of his words was only rivaled by the softness of the smile he tried his hardest to hide.

Haruka pulled back his head, catching private relief flickering on Rin's face. He opened his mouth to respond, but the arms around him suddenly fastened and lifted him off his feet; with instinctive synchronicity, Haruka found himself wrapping his legs around Rin's waist a moment before Rin leveled him on the desk behind them, knocking over a small table lamp.

"This isn't a bed," he muttered into Rin's hair, struggling to keep his voice from belying the abrupt lightness in his stomach. When Rin confronted his gaze, a presumptuous grin tugged on his mouth.

"You're not a student here," he said, before leaning into the groove beneath Haruka's ear, "Your opinion doesn't count."

There were times Haruka would have given anything for a glimpse into Rin's mind, to understand the mechanism that made the switch in his head crank from self-consciousness to audacious pride. Because the annoyance Rin was so skilled at gouging by refusing to be stalled by Haruka's barricades, well, the flip side to that stubborn self-entitlement had always been... _this_ ;

(a burst of surprised laughter at the touch of Rin's fingertips, tickling on the skin underneath his shirt; a jolt of muscles where his heel kicked the back of Rin's thigh, once Rin's teeth scraped across his neck; the resulting, half-hearted back-and-forth, the scent of rain on his hair, and a kiss that finally rendered all complaints silent.)

...Why was it so easy, anyway?

Easier, than Haruka could have ever imagined, to drown his unease in the comfort of Rin's trust; he could feel it burning under his lips, breath growing ragged in his lungs once the playfulness gave way for the same urgency Haruka had felt when he had first kissed Rin tonight.

In the light of the fallen table lamp, the shadows on Rin's face only seemed to underline Haruka's raw, unspoken hope – that it didn't _matter_ how they got this way as long as they got there together; that it didn't _matter_ if it was like this now, because it wouldn't have to be like this forever; and that one of these days, maybe he could learn how to

( _share the parts you don't want anyone to see_ )

...Maybe that was why he said it.

Twice today Rin's entire body had grown rigid with stunned surprise, but this time there was no wave of regret. In the whisper that trickled down Haruka's lips, all he felt was resoluteness, and the sudden need to run with this courage for as far as he could.

"....Wh.... You're–– I mean––? You mean _now_?!"

The astonishment on Rin's face was almost endearing. The busy little brain cells whirred in overdrive in his head, piecing together every implication of what Haruka had said; normally, this brashness would have struck Haruka as embarrassing, but right now he only managed a tiny, triumphant smile.

"...Not _now_ , idiot," he said, lightly bumping their heads together, "But... soon."

(Truth be told, he didn't know what _soon_ meant, any more than Rin probably did; whether it would take Rin a day, a week, or an entire month to process and mentally prepare for, Haruka wanted to give him that time. By now he knew Rin had his own way of coming to terms with things, emotional _and_ physical, and this was not one he would ever want to rush.)

"...You're really sure?" Rin repeated in a stunned daze, and Haruka once more buried his face in Rin's neck to avoid having to look him in the eye.

"Yeah," he said.

In a perfect world, he knew what he should have replied with instead.

In a perfect world, he would have told Rin about that night at the look-out, when the radiance of Rin's sincerity had unearthed the one thing Haruka had probably known since the day the two of them first met; but it wasn't something he could say out loud, any more than he could ever take it back, and for that he only chose to land a small kiss on Rin's hair.

_because there's so much I can't give you yet_

( _but I know I want to give you this_ )

 

 

 

A soft fog guided the path towards the train station on the following morning at 0530 hours.

As Haruka trespassed from one shared life to another, the grey reality that awaited him was like a no-man's land. In a matter of hours, he would be at school, a stream of nothings numbing his senses like the pain in his foot had finally numbed overnight; yet in a matter of days it would also be the weekend, the thought of which radiated on his fingertips like an unspoken wish.

When he turned on his phone, there were two messages waiting.

_From: Makoto_

_Don't worry about it, Haru. The important thing is that you feel better now. P.S. there's the new game Ren and Ran still want you to try out, so if you have nothing to do, maybe come over after school tomorrow?_

 

A funny kind of relief washed over him; Haruka would never admit it, but that single response alleviated a nervousness he had harbored since last night, finally clicking his reality back into place.

But it only lasted so long.

 

_From: Mother_

_I spoke to the Tachibanas, and am glad to hear you're doing well. Your father and I are currently abroad, else I would have visited. We're not sure how long his current contract lasts, but we should be able to come back by the end of next Summer at the very latest. I'm sure you understand._

 

Haruka stared at the second message for a while.

In the end, he pressed delete.

The dawn pulsated under his feet like an echo, as he stood on the platform waiting for the first train of the morning.

The sound of chimes never came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: Yes, it means exactly what you think it means.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there.
> 
> In the wake of Season 2, there's a lot of things I could say, but I will say this: although the current Wind Waves will likely draw to an end within the next 4-6 chapters or so, this story? Is far from over.
> 
> Thank you for anyone who is still willing to join me on that journey, wherever it may lead.
> 
> edit: Man I was gonna crank the rating up to R (for the future and this chapter just to stay on the safe side, but then I realized ao3 only does M and .... E. Well. We'll stay with M for now.)

 

::Thursday

 

"Yo! Matsuoka!"

The hand that slapped Rin on the shoulder roused him from a state of semi-awareness, caught between lucidity and the blissful moment before you almost fall asleep. Blinking, his head yanked up to meet the faces of two classmates he still struggled to remember the names of, both peering at him with foreboding curiosity.

"Wa-huh?" Rin managed in response, one ear-bud of his mp3 player still lodged halfway through his ear canal and blasting his brain in mono.

The two boys exchanged looks before the taller one of them went on.

"You know, there's this... rumour going around the school since last night. About you."

In life, there'll be a number of things you might hear that will send a wave of instinctive terror through your chest. _There's been an accident_ is probably on the top of that list. _We need to talk_ is possibly the second. But if Nagisa had check-boxed the first and Makoto the second, no messed up laws of probability could make lightning hit the exact same place three times in a row – let alone within the same twenty-four hours.

_There's a rumour going around about you._

Alright, screw laws of probability, then.

Even through his befuddled drowsiness, Rin felt his spine straightening in morbid anticipation; nothing, nothing good _ever_ followed those words.

"So is it really true you're going to become the world's first swimming rapper?"

The amount of flabbergasted contortion that dawned on Rin's face should not have been possible without the help of generous genetic mutation.

"The _fuck_?!"

The taller kid just nodded, though, and gestured at his friend. "Tatsu says someone saw Nitori switching dorms last night. Apparently he said he had to give you privacy to practice your freestyle."

The explanation did little to dispel Rin's confusion, until comprehension finally clicked. Fast-forwarding his memories from Makoto's unexpected arrival to the moment Haruka had showed up like something washed in with the rain, it seemed Nitori's hasty escape afterwards hadn't gone unnoticed; how that had resulted in Rin's new identity as Grand Master Sharkflash, though, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Although the situation could have easily struck Rin as a gigantic prank, the expressions both classmates wore were without a trace of mockery or jest. "Well?"

Rin opened his mouth, stalled by the implications of each possible response. As frustrating as it was to lie, it was even more frustrating to know that by far the least convoluted, the least complicated, the least-likely-to-get-anyone-in-trouble-thanks-to-Haruka's-disregard-for-school-rules, was... well, this:

"...Yeah, you got me," Rin sighed, pausing to make sure he wasn't dreaming up this exact moment in all its ridiculousness, "...That's me alright, always practicing my... sick beats."

The taller classmate breathed out in awe, clearly subdued by this response. "Wow, what did I tell you, Tatsu? Australians really did invent hip hop!"

Fighting back the urge to laugh and cry simultaneously, Rin had neither the energy nor the willpower to point out all the things wrong with that sentence. Perhaps he should have counted himself lucky that nobody requested an immediate sample of his skills, though, as it allowed him a swift retreat to the dorms before his stifled hiccups of laughter gave him away.

Upon entering, Rin found Nitori nervously sitting on the lower bunk. The look on Nitori's face was as perplexed as Rin's initial reaction, and it lit up with a wave of self-aware panic as soon as Rin stepped into the room.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!" Nitori blurted out in a cascade of frantic apologies, jumping to his feet like a spring. "Rin-senpai, I didn't–– I didn't want to say anything, but the more I told myself not to say anything the more I almost said something and then I thought about Nana–– Haruka-senpai and the first thing that came out of my mouth was... _free_."

He swallowed, fiddling on the sleeve of his jacket. "And then Akita-kun asked me if I was talking about swimming and I said no and then he said, _what, you mean like freestyle?_ and I didn't know what that meant so I said yes and then––"

Rin gently cut him off by placing a hand on Nitori's forehead before the kid worked himself up into a frenzy.

"Ai. It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong."

A relieved, cautious smile lit up Nitori's face. It was times like this when his natural insecurities still blazoned through like a speeding bus, but the willingness to believe Rin also belied his newfound courage. "R, Really? I'm... I'm so glad."

Rin gave him a reassuring nod. "Really. Thanks for covering for me back there."

Revitalized, Nitori returned the nod and balled his hands into enthusiastic fists. Witnessing his relief made Rin feel vaguely accomplished, but it didn't dispel the restlessness closing in in the stale air of the room; the bizarre confrontation after class had managed to distract him, albeit briefly – in a sense, life would have probably been far easier to deal with on this particular Thursday, if trying to make a break in the music business was all Rin really had to worry about.

"I'm gonna go for a jog, okay?" Rin chose his words with care, not to imply he was trying to ditch Nitori out of any lingering disappointment. "If anyone else asks you about last night again, just tell them... tell them I'm very sensitive about my art. Or whatever."

As he made a sprint for the grounds outside Samezuka, the first couple of steps eased his breathing into a steady, calm rhythm. It was no accident he had spent the last of his classes slipping in and out of various states of consciousness, desperately making up for lack of sleep last night; not because of any... extra-curricular activities, but because physical rest always seemed like a gigantic waste when he could spend that time just staring at a sleeping Haruka instead.

(After all, this whole–– going out thing didn't exactly feel like going _out_ when what usually connected them was the mute glow of a phone's display; any chance of reality was one Rin tried to savor with all he had. Yet he must have dozed off somewhere between four and five a.m., because the next thing he remembered was the touch of Haruka's fingertips grazing the side of his face – had it not been for the vague scent of rain and Haruka's skin still clinging to the pillow, Rin might not have known whether anything of last night had truly happened at all.)

_But it did happen_

_and now you know_

As if on instinct, Rin picked up the pace. He had been putting off this moment since the morning, but of course he remembered the short conversation waged in the half-light of his room; if he took a deep breath, he could still feel Haruka's lips brushing past his ear, the warmth of Haruka's breath on his skin, and the silent, tentative whisper––

( _I want to_

 _feel all of you_ )

––and how that single phrase had blanked out Rin's mind and jump-started his heart, and how the lightness in his stomach had felt almost unbearable in the seconds it had taken him to choke out a stunned, _You mean, now?_

It hadn't been a real question, rather than instinctive stalling for time. In the hours Haruka spent asleep with his hair nuzzled against Rin's chin, part of Rin had treasured that solitude; as the full implication of Haruka's words finally caught up, the glow that seeped into Rin's bones was overwhelming, frightening, yet exciting all at once.

Less than a month ago he might have felt compelled to run from that feeling, as opposed to running towards it.

Less than a month ago he might have rejected it, simply for failing to trust Haruka's resolve.

_But he wouldn't have said it, if he hadn't also meant it_

_...right?_

A wayward branch suddenly snagged on the path of Rin's foot. A quick reflex corrected the line of movement, but it wasn't the only self-assured part of Rin to sense a sudden jab.

...Wait, how _was_ he so sure he had understood what Haruka had meant, anyway? Hell, with the amount of close calls and complete misunderstandings dragging down their sync, Rin's recent track record was nothing to get complacent over. It wasn't like this was one of those things he could confirm with Makoto – something Rin had done yesterday, after Haruka's initial reason for vindictive isolation had left him completely at loss.

_No no no no. Not this bullshit again._

The second-guessing, the double-checking, the endless list of doubts and neurotic what if's–– there was only so much self-inflicted paranoia a man could take. And so; within that 30 minute jog, it prompted Rin to mentally craft a number of semi-casual messages to Haruka, to fight back the confusion eroding his new-found courage.

_Hi. So about last night. Were you by any chance aware that what you said kind of came across as––_

(Ugh, no.)

_Oi, Haru. Since fish-themed Rosetta stones are sorta rare, I figured I'd just ask you directly if that thing last night was supposed to mean––_

(Eh, no.)

_Hahahaha you know what, what you said before almost made it sound like––_

(Uuuurrrgggghhhhhhh)

_OKAY SO. HERE'S THE THING._

_WERE YOU COMPLETELY INTENTIONALLY AND ON PURPOSE TRYING TO SAY THAT YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH ME?!?!?!_

...Well, that last one wasn't casual any more than it was subtle, yet it was also the one Rin ended up pressing _send_ on out of sheer wound-up impatience.

It took roughly two minutes before the phone vibrated with a response.

**Yes**

Rin's only retort came in the form of an involuntary wheeze.

Well.

 _Fuck_.

 

 

 

::Friday

 

_Tap, tap, tap._

There was something calming to the sound of his pen hitting the side of the laptop, like an illusion of productivity. After all, Rin had been staring at the same tab window for the past twenty minutes; chin in hand, the blankness of the browser screen was a direct representation of his mind.

_The economical state of Kyrgyzstan. The deadliest tornadoes in the recent history of USA. An abridged version of Aristotle's philosophies. How to make exotic cheese._

These were the tabs he had hidden a flick of a button away; the titles seemed daunting enough to stop Nitori from prying into Rin's homework, in the event he chose the wrong moment to enter their dorm. Naturally, Rin knew Nitori wouldn't really return until practice in the afternoon, but he felt better just knowing he had come prepared.

Wasn't that Rin's whole problem, to begin with?

_Soon._

It was what Haruka had said – but although soon did not mean _now_ , nor did it mean _this exact weekend_ , the natural neurotic node in Rin's circuitry had little regard for logic. Because in the aftermath of calming down long enough to accept that he _hadn't_ misunderstood Haruka's sentiment, had followed a panic of a whole another kind:

Matsuoka Rin, as it happened, didn't actually know a goddamned thing about sex.

Well, of course he _knew_ –– things. Stuff. The rough outline, of how things were supposed to take place. But it's one thing to be familiar with a concept and another to understand execution, and the more Rin had thought of this in practical terms, the more he realized he really, _really_ had some serious catching up to do.

(Was this the universe's way of punishing him for never having cared about porn? Granted, that had always had more to do with Rin's general disinterest with the naked female body than it did with any profound aversion to sex, but there must have been _some_ way he could have put even that dubious insight into use.)

One of the best things about the 21st century, though, was that the internet could answer anything your personal experience did not. This was why he had chosen to submit himself to the altar of Google, like a desperate prayer that all the profound knowledge might materialize into his head; yet he hadn't accounted for how impossible he would also find the thought of even typing _how the hell do people have gay sex anyway_ into a search bar.

No, fuck this.

If the gods had been just, he should have been able to channel all this self-entitled frustration into swimming later that afternoon. Maybe breaking a personal record or two could have helped Rin lull into the sweet pretense of feeling like it didn't matter if he had no idea what he was doing; that somehow, his conviction alone might carry him through, and save him from the inevitable embarrassment of realizing that in real life, trial and error was not just an entry in a book of clichés.

Instead, when he closed the locker door after practice, the metal resounded with Mikoshiba's voice.

"Matsuoka. Can I have a word?"

Rin's head craned across the room in sync with Nitori's, only to flinch at the uncharacteristically serious look on Captain Mikoshiba's face.

"...Sure," Rin sighed, watching Nitori scamper off; whether or not Mikoshiba wanted to scold him for a shitty practice, it wasn't like his day could get any worse.

Instead of doing that, though, Mikoshiba sighed and crossed his arms while waiting for the rest of the team to leave.

"You weren't really here today, mentally speaking," he began once they were alone. "It's been a while since you did that–– is something weighing down your mind?"

Surprised, Rin lifted his head. Mikoshiba's honest willingness to help felt almost hysterical, for how much Rin could have used genuine advice – and the impossibility of that scenario made him want to spontaneously combust.

 _What do you want me to say?_ Rin wailed inside his head, the fluster on his cheeks deepening the further along the thought he went. _The truth?_

_Yeah, well, okay._

_You remember Nanase, right?_

_And you know we're sort of kind of going out, as much as it often seems like the opposite?_

_Well, there's a lot of times I kinda wish he got hit by a freight train, but––_

_even more than that, I'm... pretty sure I want him to bang me senseless first._

_Now. Problem?_

_We're both guys. That may or may not complicate things._

_Because I've never–– I don't know how to–– What am I supposed to––_

_...I think you can see where this is going. And why I can't have this conversation with you, now, or ever._

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mikoshiba hazarded anew, voice concerned yet calm.

It probably would have only taken a shake of Rin's head to indicate that really, it was none of Mikoshiba's business; Rin had already learnt to gauge the limit at which the trouble of dealing with teenagers exceeded Mikoshiba's patience, and if Rin shook his head, he probably wouldn't ask twice.

But before he ever got that far, a strange, crazy idea also hit Rin – and he found himself opening his mouth anyway, unable to shake off the sudden spark of courage.

"...Actually, yeah, I think... you might be able to help."

Leaning against the lockers with folded arms, Mikoshiba was visibly delighted when Rin finally complied.

"It's... about school," Rin began anew, weighing every word carefully like something loaded with explosives, "Well, more like... about PE, okay?"

(Well, it was the closest thing to any physical activity that he could think of at those limits, anyway.)

Mikoshiba gave him a quizzical look. "You mean other than swimming? I didn't know you had time for additional sports teams."

"Uh, yeah," Rin coughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "...I thought I'd try out a little, you know–– muscle variety? But turns out the game I signed up for isn't... one that I'm that familiar with. In fact, I've never played it before. Ever."

At this, Mikoshiba appeared legitimately surprised. "Haah? Which one?"

"Basketball." Rin couldn't say why that exact word chose to come out of his mouth, but this whole idea couldn't get any more ridiculous even if he'd picked Turkish oil wrestling instead.

Mikoshiba looked contemplative, then nodded. "And you're worried that you might be bad at it?" he speculated accurately; somewhere in the recesses of his soul, Rin now thanked every god in the universe for the towel that concealed the radiance of his blush.

"Well, that," he coughed, "...But, it's mostly just that I... I don't really know what to do. I mean... I know what you're _supposed_ to, but... it's an entirely different thing than to actually _do_ it, right?"

Biting on his bottom lip, Rin couldn't help glancing away before he went on. "Not to mention, I... what if I do something wrong? What... what if it hurts like fuck?"

Peculiarity dawned on Mikoshiba's face at the sound of his harsh language. "....Huh? You mean, if you injured yourself in-game?"

Rin twitched. "Uh. Yeah, that's what I meant. Yeah."

Mikoshiba went silent for a moment, as if lost in thought. When he finally spoke, he reached out to slap a reassuring hand on Rin's shoulder, the warmth of his energy flowing through his touch. "Well, Matsuoka, I think you're over-thinking it, as usual. Look, do you trust your teammates?"

Rin blinked a couple of times, before he coughed again.

 _Not really_ , he wanted to say grudgingly, as though on another reflex; how was he supposed to trust Haruka, when he must have been even more clueless about anything his request actually entailed? How was he supposed to not worry about every single little detail, when Haruka had never, ever bothered to sweat the realistic consequences of his actions when it came to this joke of a relationship?

_But is that really true?_

"Well..." Rin began anew after the brief silence, a sudden memory making his voice trail off in directions he wasn't certain of himself, "I..."

( _his fingers clasped around your fingers, his legs wrapped around your own, his heartbeat echoing in your ears_ )

"...Yeah, I do," Rin breathed out, realizing he spoke with complete earnestness.

Mikoshiba's grin grew wider before he gave Rin a nod. "Then that's what you need to do," he said, "Trust them. Even if they're no more experienced than you, they'll watch out for you, right? It's not about individuals, it's supposed to be a game that's fun for everyone! So if you feel like you're falling behind, or that something's wrong, then you just have to talk them through what's going on in your head, and you can work something out together. That makes sense, right?"

Rin swallowed, glancing away. "...It does, Captain."

Letting out an exuberant sigh, Mikoshiba let go of his shoulder and took a seat by Rin's side. "See, Matsuoka, it's... kind of like this. Everyone has to start somewhere, and everyone has to make a couple of mistakes and fumbles before they get better. But that's what practice is for, isn't it?"

"...Yeah, Captain."

"Just don't worry too much and it'll all be fine," Mikoshiba grinned, "Just have fun, okay? That's the whole point of it. Have fun and enjoy yourself."

There was a definite trace of wryness that Rin failed to weed out of his expression once he returned that smile, but nodded anyway.

"...Thanks, Captain."

 

 

 

::Saturday

 

He felt the crispness in the air the moment he got off the train.

It tugged on his fingertips, not quite with chill, but a sharpness that whispered of the prospect of Winter. Every morning he'd wake up, and the light would linger a little shorter, the rays of sun a little fainter, like there was something about the inevitable passing of Summer and Autumn that he couldn't help but regard with unease.

 _That's ridiculous_ , he'd always tell himself; for someone born in the heart of Winter, there was nothing about the end of the year that should have spelled dread. But whether or not it was simply his mind playing tricks, or the discomfort of learning how to live his life in two places at once, what always washed those doubts from Rin's mind was running up that familiar flight of stairs, two steps at a time, until he felt out of breath and privately relieved when Haruka opened the door.

"Did you run again," was all Haruka asked, like he'd done so many times before.

"No," Rin lied, like he had lied so many times before.

(But it didn't matter, because it was nothing more than a ritual, like a concealed greeting to hide what they really wanted to say:

_I missed you, too.)_

It had been this way for weeks, now. Somewhere along the way, Rin had finally stopped counting. But as he made the hike back to Haruka's house on that particular Saturday, said his lines and brushed at Haruka's arm on his way in, part of him wondered if he shouldn't have – because it wasn't just like any other visit, wasn't just like any other Saturday, and after today it never really might be, again.

"I made breakfast. I wasn't sure if you'd eaten yet, so I only really cooked for one. But you can have some if you want."

When Haruka knelt down to continue his breakfast, each gesture came out with a grace Rin struggled to overlook. For a while he stood in the doorway of the living room, just staring, until a suspicious frown set on Haruka's brow. "What?"

"Nothing," Rin said, hastily shaking his head as if to shake off his bewilderment; all at once his mind felt foggy with unnamed expectation, while his senses remained sharp like the air that had followed him inside.

Were this a regular Saturday, what would have happened afterwards was possibly this: Haruka would wash the dishes, and Rin would distract him by complaining about school as he toyed on the strings of Haruka's hoodie. One of them would pull out a stack of books and pretend to do homework, until the other not-so-accidentally sprawled each document over the table. Someone might say something stupid, someone might roll their eyes, and someone would most definitely insist on calling Makoto to confirm whether Bulbasaur was really green or blue.

It was nothing they hadn't done a hundred times over, but ever since Rin's childhood list, something about their sync had also shifted into a more relaxed groove. Seizing the naturalness of physical intimacy had come far easier once the languid hours intertwined with moments of drawn-out kisses, inane arguments and Haruka's hands splayed on Rin's abs, and there was a comfort to this familiarity that Rin always missed back at Samezuka like it hurt.

But it was a familiarity he was not at liberty to lull himself into, today.

It was only when the meaningless murmur of TV filled the room, when Haruka's fingers stopped threading through the red hair splayed over his knee, that Rin knew they'd finally have _The Talk_.

"Do you think it's possible to eat all the deep sea fish?"

...Or, perhaps not.

"The hell?" Rin barked out, craning his head on Haruka's thigh to catch the contemplative look on his face; Haruka wasn't looking at Rin, but instead stared at the screen where someone famous was once again flabbergasted at the deliciousness of whichever regional delicacy she had stuck in her mouth.

"I don't mean just one person," Haruka went on, undeterred, "But if everyone in the world set out to eat all the deep sea fish, could they do it?"

"You're crazy," was all Rin could muster in response.

"I don't think it's crazy," Haruka calmly replied, "There's a lot of fish in the sea."

"That's not what I––" Rin started, verbally stumbling all over himself; it hadn't been what Haruka was supposed to _say_ , to save Rin from the embarrassment of having to be the first person to address the elephant in the room.

But maybe there was no elephant.

Maybe there was only Rin, and his unrealistic, unprecedented expectations; maybe all he had managed in the past two days was to work himself up into a frenzy that Haruka neither shared nor specifically cared about. Hell, in general terms they had already _had_ sex before – if all Haruka regarded it as was a change in technicalities, who was Rin to insist it ought to have mattered more?

_So why does it still matter to you?_

"––Nevermind," Rin muttered, turning his gaze. He felt Haruka's posture grow rigid, but it was gone before he could register the cause. Not that it took a rocket scientist to hazard a guess _at_ the cause; it was obvious Rin's response instilled a strange hesitancy to Haruka's every absent-minded touch, caught between lingering and hastily pulling away.

Truly, there was something almost inspiring to Rin's inherent ability to turn an already awkward situation even worse.

But whether it was because of the positive result of last night's confrontation, or the simple frustration of how little time they had together each week, Rin also knew he possessed the ability to make this _stop_ – to put an end to wasting time on ambiguous restlessness and the cryptic manner in which Haruka chose to convey his unease.

"Hey. Can we–– I know it's early and you've probably spent all morning in the tub, but–– is it okay if we took a bath?"

Haruka's eyes widened with sincere surprise as he glanced back down. The amount of conviction Rin put into trying to look as nonchalant as possible should have earned him the award for actor of the year; sure, he did have an agenda, but it wasn't one Haruka might have assumed.

Still, Haruka only shrugged.

"Sure."

 

 

 

Rin knew he had made the right call once Haruka deliberately leaned against the opposite end of the tub.

It wasn't something he had never done before –there was a surprisingly large number of ways to fit two people in a single tub, depending on intent– but his calmness now masked an air of caution. Their knees bumped together in the middle, and Rin extended out his leg to nudge at Haruka's hip with his toes.

"Oi. Haru. You're starting to freak me out. Be normal."

If Rin had relied on water to dissolve Haruka's filters, his gamble was about to pay off. At the sound of his words, something disgruntled flashed in Haruka's eyes; the next thing Rin knew, Haruka's hand grabbed him by the foot, submerging Rin at once.

"H, hey––!!" Rin spluttered as soon as he came up for air, "I could have hit my head?!"

"Idiot," Haruka muttered, staring at the edge of the tub as though trying to drill a hole; but there was also frustration in his tone that caught Rin's radar, like a brief flash of something familiar.

_...Wait a goddamned second._

"...Haru?" he hazarded, trying to catch the memory before it slipped his reach. Meanwhile, Haruka's back arched so low underwater his mouth barely remained above surface.

"...You're the one who can't act normal, anymore," Haruka muttered under his breath, a sting of defeat in his tone.

"Oi, that's––" Rin began on instinct, but the impulsive rebuttal failed to ring true; Haruka's discretion, his overly casual banter, and the subsequent irritation at Rin's inability to acknowledge his underlying intent – didn't this... feel reminiscent, in a way, of a time that now felt so long ago?

(Like a certain night at his grandmother's house only a couple of months back, when the heat of the Summer wore down both of their defenses until nothing but raw hope remained)

_...Has he been over-thinking this, too?_

"H, hey, Haru," Rin started anew; as he reached towards Haruka, the sudden movement sent a wave of water on Haruka's face that made him cough.

In spite of the resulting glare, Rin took a deep breath as he leaned closer. "If this is about what you said the other night––"

"––You shouldn't think about it," Haruka cut him off. As he straightened his back and pulled up his knees, they lightly touched Rin's chest. "It wasn't supposed to stress you out."

"Haru––" Rin tried to shoehorn his way back into the conversation, but the adamancy of Haruka's tone rendered him quiet.

"...It's just, something I want to do," Haruka said, still not meeting Rin's eyes. "One day."

He then went silent; once Rin finally received his chance to reply, he realized he didn't know what he wanted to say.

As always, the only thing he _could_ say was the one thing he didn't mean.

"Yeah," he simply echoed, "One day."

Haruka nodded, at no-one in particular. "Alright."

Rin nodded, too. "Alright."

Isn't it ironic, how little you anticipate disappointment before it hits you in the face? For all his stressing over this precise moment, Rin hadn't prepared for how it might feel if Haruka turned him down. For all his insecurities, he hadn't stopped to think about the possibility that maybe it _did_ mean as much to Haruka – meant so much, in fact, that Haruka was willing to pretend he didn't want it, until he was certain that Rin did?

Because in the light tilt of his head, when Haruka finally shifted his gaze and met Rin head-on, there was a fragment of _something_ there; not a challenge, not a dare, but a genuine, sincere trace of a _chance_ ––

( _unless_ )

"On the other hand," Rin heard himself speak out, a bizarre courage desperately hoping to seize that chance, "You know today... is also... a day..."

Haruka's eyes widened lightly.

Rin took a deep breath, but his heart felt light.

( _today is that day_ )

Leaning in, tiny droplets of water dripped from Rin's hair on Haruka's neck, but his gaze did not even flicker. Its intensity helped dispel any doubt when Rin reached down to tug at his lower lip, the kiss resounding with the confidence of practice; by now, he knew to expect the light shudder when Haruka's head craned upwards to draw him in, their pattern only broken by the unusual urgency at which his tongue leaned against Rin's own.

There was still a definite element of caution to Haruka's every move; when Rin braced his arm over the edge of the tub, a brief hesitation held Haruka's hands down before his palms settled on the flat of Rin's chest. The water that trickled past his fingers tickled on Rin's skin, making him smile against Haruka's mouth; if that smile was the encouragement Haruka needed, it quickly relaxed his shoulders and allowed his hands to trail downwards until seizing hold of Rin's hips.

How such a tiny thing made such a big difference, Rin might never know. Yet he let out an audible gasp, breaking the kiss for a moment, as an unexpected shudder passed his spine. The stifled possessiveness in Haruka's gesture was not something he could have misunderstood, as soon as he caught the flushed expression on Haruka's face.

"H, hey," Rin said, a lightness twisting at his stomach once Haruka pushed upwards to press his lips on his collarbone; the sudden movement almost knocked Rin backwards, but Haruka's firm hold of his hip only landed him securely on Haruka's lap, knees banging against the tub on both sides of his waist. The arc of Haruka's spine was lithe where Rin clung at his back, fingers digging into his damp skin once he felt the two of them growing hard against one another underwater.

Normally, this would have been the point where the rest of the world would have blurred into haphazard nothings, where Rin would have taken advantage of his blind hormones and slipped a hand between them as if on accident; and it wasn't that part of him didn't consider this, derailed by Haruka's heavy breathing on his neck and the fog of arousal clouding his mind, but he couldn't ignore the voice beneath that impulsiveness, whispering––

( _now_ )

A low sound escaped Haruka's throat, where Rin leaned up, brushing at him as he did.

"...Room," Rin breathed out in fragments, "I mean... more room... your room. Shit, room. Yeah."

He wanted to facepalm at the sheer eloquence of his phrasing, but instead of paying much thought to his delivery, only a brief flash of protest crossed Haruka's face. Deep down Rin shared the disappointment of having to disengage with the water; still, given how his arm slipped twice just trying to climb off Haruka, at their current skill level the odds of hospitalization were far greater than Rin was willing to risk.

(The sudden loss of contact felt alien, like a fresh reminder of reality; but perhaps it was also worth it, for the way Haruka's fingers wrapped around his own, and lit Rin's nerves with funny kind of fire the moment Haruka pulled him along.)

It was a small miracle, probably, that they didn't stumble in the hallway or bash their heads into the frames of Haruka's doorway. Sooner, rather than later, Haruka's bed still yielded under their combined weight as Rin unceremoniously knocked Haruka flat on his back. His lips found Haruka's neck before he could stop to consider the chill of the morning, or the pale light that washed Haruka's skin with a soft glow; it was so much easier to disguise nervousness into adrenaline, because in focusing on the heat of Haruka's naked body, or the little hiss that filtered through his teeth when Rin pushed down against him, he could also forget that

(it wasn't like any other time, when the spur of a moment had guided anyone's hand; wasn't something Rin could excuse on hormones, or pretend he didn't understand; but that the two of them had _decided_ on this, because both of them _wanted_ this, and that...

well, wasn't that as frightening, as it was also oddly comforting, in its rationality?)

Of course, that comfort did little to keep the fluster from Rin's voice when he shifted backwards, determined not to let that choice go to waste.

"I think... thought... fuck, whatever–– It should be you on top first, okay?"

Haruka looked puzzled, somehow failing to note how Rin's cheeks heated up the entire room. "...But I've never––"

"Shit, Haru, do I _look_ like the kind of person who performs well under pressure?!"

"...Alright, but you know, we also need––"

Rin nearly winced as a sudden recollection kicked in. More specifically, the recollection of a day spent on shinobi-level stealth to acquire not only information, but also incriminating physical evidence for the sake of _just in case you never know it's better to be safe than sorry_ – the former of which resided in his half-muddled brain, the latter of which resided in his backpack downstairs.

Rin felt like shrieking.

" _I know?!?_ " he countered, unable to stifle his entire hysterical nerve; kneeing Haruka in the chest before vaulting off the bed, he couldn't help cursing as he went.

God, these ridiculous spontaneous love affairs really were a _lot_ harder to execute seamlessly than fiction made them out to be.

On his way out of the room, Rin could have sworn he saw Haruka hide his face in his hand, shoulders twitching in barely suppressed laughter. In a sense, this exact scene should have been something right out of Rin's nightmares: for every second of harsh reality cutting in with awkward pauses and unintentional nudity (Was there an unspoken rule about accidentally streaking the home altar of someone's late grandmother? There had to be, right?), a mortified paralysis ought to have dragged him down.

But there was something about the barely-concealed, completely amused smile playing on Haruka's lips that made Rin recall Captain Mikoshiba's misguided yet accurate advice; did it really matter if he couldn't make any of this perfect, so long as he could still make it... fun?

"Welcome back," Haruka noted upon his return, spurring Rin to lunge his entire backpack at Haruka's head just to knock that infuriatingly smug mirth off his face.

Haruka's muffled yelp may have lasted Rin long enough to psyche his way back into bed, but it did not save him from the goosebumps of Haruka's warmth once his fingers fastened around Rin's arm.

"Rin."

There was nothing aggravated to the gesture; no, the calmness of Haruka's voice was traced with something deeper, leaving his breath almost unintentionally low. As he leaned in to land a light kiss on the underside of Rin's jaw, tracing a determined hand down to re-awaken Rin's cock, the leap in Rin's stomach slyly pulled whatever had momentarily derailed right back on track.

It didn't mean that for the next minutes that passed, his head stopped reeling any less. Because the strangest thing about Haruka's focus, his refusal to skip ahead even at the risk of being completely embarrassing, was also... overwhelming, in a way; Rin had always cringed at the prospect of technicalities, self-conscious of every mistake to an almost painful degree, but he had forgotten, too––

(that the boy who tilted his head with curiosity, who patiently observed the mysteries of protection, who nudged on Rin's arm as if to say, _hey, you're supposed to figure this stuff out too_ , that he

 _wasn't just anyone_ )

and so; when Haruka let out a curt sigh, mistaking Rin's amazement for laziness, he only hooked a leg around Rin's waist to send him sprawling back in his lap, and said, "...You could. You know. Help out a bit."

Having intuitively straddled Haruka's waist anew to retain any semblance of balance, it was impossible for Rin to miss the expression on Haruka's face. His features were less flushed than they had been merely moments ago, but in its place lingered a different kind of resolve – a flicker of hesitation, yes, but also a more heightened intensity sparked by each graze of Rin's skin.

Rin knew that look, of course; it followed in the aftermath of hungry, unapologetic kisses, of the taunting way Rin sometimes danced his fingertips on Haruka's lower stomach just to annoy him into having to _ask_ , but to witness that same, needy gaze in broad daylight made Rin almost swallow his wind-pipe out of the sheer realization of how much it was also capable of turning him _on_.

"Uh," Rin replied, blinking three times over. "Yeah. I mean. Yeah."

(Crazy crazy how _crazy_ was it that while he had done this before, no, taken _pride_ in how hastily Haruka always grew hard at his touch, it was also–– so different, now; because for all his mental pep-talks of _well it just makes less of a mess_ to get over any juvenile aversion to condoms, not once had Rin entertained the possibility of actually feeling light-headed with arousal, simply at the prospect of helping someone put one on?)

To tether his hormones before they raced ahead and meltdowned his brain, Rin coughed. "Are–– you don't want to wait? I mean, it might take a while, so you'll, uh..."

Even without spelling out the obvious, the lightest hue of scarlet worked its way onto Haruka's neck, and his eyes quickly flickered away before holding Rin's gaze with an almost defiant audacity.

"...It's fine," he said, "As long as I keep looking at you."

"Wh–– whatever," Rin choked out like a human cliché, but it was all he could do to will back a high-pitched wheeze, to stop his hands from trembling while accommodating Haruka's request.

Although Haruka certainly couldn't conceal the twitch of his hips at the stroke of his neglected erection, it was easy enough to misconstrue his patience with confidence; this, Rin couldn't help but envy. Because it simply didn't feel _fair_ , that even once he drowned those nerves into a particularly earnest kiss, Rin was sure Haruka must have heard his heart pounding in his ears – no, Haruka must have literally felt it pressing against his chest, when he broke the kiss and the two of them waged a short conversation amidst an empty room:

( _do you want to, wait, do you want me to, no I mean have you ever tried to, what the hell I'd never–– ok like maybe once, ok maybe twice shut up, well that only makes it easier then, oh screw you, no it's–– I just don't want to hurt you, well I'll make damn sure to let you know if you do_ )

As Rin's spine arched in succession, he could feel Haruka's fingers trailing down his waist to the insides of his shins, then thighs. To say that was not in part Rin's intent would have, of course, been a lie; but as sheepish as it was to let out a shiver upon Haruka's damp touch tickling across the back muscle of his thigh, to hold down a breath at feeling Haruka's fingers pausing to hesitate by the groove of his behind, what these few seconds of stalling ultimately divulged was Haruka's own, nervous mind.

"...Hey," Rin couldn't help but breathe out, "You could. You know. Help out a bit here."

At once, Haruka tilted up his head, and the familiar spark lit in his mild glare. But once it relaxed into a more tender, wry smile, Rin could tell – that they had been in on this together, as stressed and stupid and at loss as each other, since the moment they had also decided not to care.

(Because it was Haruka, who flinched as much as he did, when his fingers pushed inside Rin after a moment's deliberation; Haruka, who let out a tiny _ah_ and hid his face in Rin's shoulder before his lips promptly moved up to Rin's neck; and when his fingers tentatively withdrew, then pushed back in, an involuntary whimper escaped Rin from the combination of surprise and unexpected, if also clumsy pleasure.)

Instinctively, he grasped onto Haruka's hair.

 _I have no idea no idea no idea no fucking idea what we're doing at all_ , the incomprehensible mess in Rin's head kept saying, over and over; but his heart also felt light with a wave of reassurance once Haruka leaned back his neck, and steadied his other hand on the small of Rin's back.

"Rin," he only spoke, flushed yet determined once more, "Breathe."

No _calm down_ , no _relax_ , but simply to _breathe –_ and as soon as Rin exhaled, he understood why. As the excess tension left his muscles, Haruka registered the change with a tiny smile that softened on his face; it made Rin's heart skip a beat, like it skipped at the tiny particles of electricity between their lips before they touched.

"You can–– it's probably alright if you––"

Rin swallowed the rest of his sentence with something hoarse, but for once Haruka required little clarification. For once he had not been too self-assured, either: Rin hadn't _really_ expected Haruka to still be hard after all the time wasted on preparation, but closing a single hand around Haruka's cock left Rin flushed with the reality of his former words.

"Alright," Haruka said, never bothering to conceal the ragged pace of his breath, and amount of self-denial could have stopped the final chain-link of doubt that _everything here, everything is exactly as it should be_ shattering somewhere in the recesses of Rin's mind.

And it wasn't that things weren't still awkward, for every single shift and attempt at positioning like a tragicomic reminder that nothing in the real world worked as smoothly as on TV. But it was also worth every single fumbled second, if only for the subtle bite of Haruka's lip, the way his teeth grazed Rin's shoulder while trying to stall both his nerves and impatience; Rin could have easily lost himself in soaking in every detail, but then Haruka's hands were on his hips and Haruka's lips on his lips and Rin forgot to so much as hesitate before leaning his weight in––

( _like diving toes first into scalding hot water, just to relish the split second in time when the heat licked your skin; like a sudden lurch at the pit of your stomach on a theme park ride, just to treasure the dread and the thrill; like everything and nothing you feared in advance, a haze and an ache and a strange, tingling feeling in your fingertips like nothing you had ever dreamed to touch_ )

––before the staggered breath escaped his lungs, nails clinging to the curve of Haruka's shoulder in an attempt to relieve some of the initial pain. It ground Haruka to an intuitive halt; somehow, the frantic pulse Rin sensed beneath his hand helped alleviate the primary stupor with the softness of his concern.

"Hey," Rin whispered into Haruka's hair, "...Are you okay?"

"...I'm supposed to ask you that, moron," came the response, clearly out of breath; when Rin tilted his head to catch the bewilderment and awe mirrored on Haruka's face, it was all he could do not to burst out laughing at the absurdity of their scene.

"Stop wriggling, you'll push me out," Haruka muttered, true to his nature; it did little to temper Rin's hilarity, to the point where Haruka had to pull down one of Rin's arms to steady their combined weight.

His fingers trickled down all the way to Rin's wrist, then the length of his fingers, until they intertwined.

"...Rin." This time, Haruka's emphasized his voice with a more serious edge. "Are you al––"

Fighting back the heat of his cheeks now that the worst of his chuckles had passed, Rin brashly cut him off. "––I told you. If it hurt that bad, you'd already know."

"But––"

"Haru, the next words that leave your mouth better be _But how about we continue and save empathetic drivel for when you're not as physically compromised_ , alright?!"

As unlikely as Rin's temper was to ever actually deter Haruka, he must have understood, too – that there was a momentum to their courage, one that Rin felt in the way Haruka re-assessed his consent and laced his fingers over Rin's hips. The second thrust still hurt almost as much as the first one, but the gasp that left Rin was now also one of relief; little by little, it felt easier to breathe, to yield his body with Haruka's in a way that might have felt–– unusual, yes, but also not unpleasant like he may have feared.

(Because it also made Rin so _aware_ , of everything around him: the thin light of the room; the way Haruka's forearms trembled, as though fighting back shiver after shiver to leave Rin room to adjust; the sharpness of Haruka's breath, the dryness of Haruka's lips, and the way Rin reaching over to claim his mouth made his entire body shudder.)

And perhaps, life isn't like the spontaneous affairs in fiction, or the smooth fade-to-black on TV; perhaps life is a lot more tedious, and patient, and filled with the slow adapting to a body that is not your own. But when Rin heard a low moan hitch in Haruka's lungs, his shoulders letting out an abrupt twitch, somehow Rin knew it was _different_ ; knew that there was a vulnerability to Haruka's flushed daze unlike any of his previous climax, as if he had–– chosen to share this, no, chosen _Rin_ to share this, in a way nobody else ever really could again.

When Haruka breathed a mumbled _Sorry_ into his shoulder once the shudders died down, Rin's first reflex was to tell him it was fine; that it honestly didn't matter if only one of them came, if it also meant getting to witness that side of Haruka – but he also never got the chance.

The warmth of Haruka's breath settled into an ominously familiar cadence, and Rin could literally feel his own face contorting with disbelief.

"...Are you fucking kidding me?!" Rin barked out, any bashfulness dissolving into annoyance, "Oi, Haru, you're seriously just gonna fall asleep?!"

"...'m not," Haruka tried to argue, but with considerably less effort; his head lulled forward as Rin leaned back, and Rin let out a groan. Perhaps, he could have taken this moment to wonder how little sleep Haruka had clearly been running on in the past few days, too, but in his current state sympathy was the last thing on Rin's mind.

Struggling off Haruka and digging the heel into his side, Rin succeeded in banishing Haruka back into the bathroom; afterwards, the graceful face-plant Haruka executed into bed implied it was probably as far as Rin was going to get. Yet as much as he wanted to give Haruka hell for running out of stamina (Ha!! How was that for an incentive to train more!!), the chance to reel in his thoughts in the wake of such a personal experience was also something Rin welcomed with relief.

"Fine," Rin sighed, poking at Haruka's forehead, "You can take like... a thirty minute nap. But then you gotta make me lunch, 'cause I'm starving."

"...Just make your own," Haruka muttered, but his defiance held little punch when his arms also reached out and clung to Rin even under the covers; in spite of himself, Rin found the simple gesture conjuring up a foolish, small smile, and he ran his fingers through Haruka's hair.

"First off, you're the one always complaining that the way I fry fish ruins it," he said, leaning closer to Haruka's ear, "And secondly, are you seriously telling me I need to both get myself off _and_ make my own food? That's cold, even for _you_."

It might have been predictable, but Rin savored the spark at which Haruka's hand shot out to grip his wrist all the same.

"Later. I'll... I'll make it up to you later. Today."

"Yeah yeah," Rin said, faking a nonchalant air into his voice; in truth, he was glad Haruka's face was buried somewhere on the side of his waist, to stop him from noticing how the mere promise made Rin's cheeks burn with something privately pleased.

"...Hey, Rin, you... you didn't hate it, right?"

Haruka's sudden question pulled Rin out of his stupor as quickly as it had dawned. "Huh?"

"We don't have to... if you didn't like it," Haruka almost spoke like a broken dictation, pushing through his drowsiness to focus only on the imperative. "...Or switch, so I'll know what it's like... and get better, eventually."

"What, I thought you didn't care about scores?"

"...Rin."

The seriousness of Haruka's tone left a light flutter in Rin's chest; but even if Haruka found it relatively easy to address their proverbial sex life so directly, it was too soon, too difficult for Rin to put that kind of distance between himself and what had happened yet. For now, all he could rely on was humor and the closeness of Haruka's body to tide him over.

"Dumbass, I didn't hate it," he said, tugging at Haruka's hair as if to remind him that the two of them simply didn't cope the same way, "I'd say you get... seventy."

"...Seventy?" Haruka repeated drowsily, and Rin returned his confusion with a light shrug.

"Seventy percent. That's your score. For now, anyway."

A pensive frown appeared on Haruka's brow, clearly missing Rin's joke. "...That's worse than my game."

"What the..." Rin began, but Haruka only closed his eyes and nuzzled his head against Rin like a cat.

"The game I played with Ren and Ran the other day," he clarified with a yawn, "...There's a village, and you're the mayor. My popularity poll rated me at eighty percent."

"...Well we both know what that score probably isn't based on, then," Rin couldn't help but comment, but Haruka ignored his jab.

"I tried to be... nice to the villagers. Sent letters. I helped one out with his farm... But I probably shouldn't have killed that one guy."

"You _killed_ _a guy_ in a game you played with the twins?!" Rin blurted out, surprised as he was impressed; Haruka's shoulders budged in a light shrug, a laconic honesty in his voice.

"...I didn't mean to," he mused in his half-asleep state, "But he came into my house and wanted to buy my tub. So I beat him with a shovel until he exploded in confetti."

In response, Rin could only... stare.

( _Stare, like he had done when the two of them had first met amidst the echoes of screaming children and the smell of chlorine;_

_stare, like he had done when a relay he had not been part of had stretched seconds into what felt like infinity;_

_stare, like he had done when the weight of Haruka's conviction had dragged him kicking and screaming into a world he thought he didn't deserve_ ;

like he had stared, over and over, since _always_

because the person before him, like then like now, there was no way conceivable that someone like him could possibly, utterly _exist_.)

Then he began to laugh.

He couldn't help it, because it was a laughter that encompassed everything that had happened today, yesterday, the day before, and the day even before that; as though all his nerves, all his stress and worries and fear came out in that single laughter full of relief, full of acceptance, full of disbelief that any of this was even _real_.

"What," Haruka muttered, voice at odds over whether to sound morose or curious, but Rin could barely choke down a breath for how hysterical he felt – how _grateful_ he felt, in that moment cut out of time, like the day Haruka had called his childhood self an idiot by the lookout near his house.

"Nothing––" Rin uttered through his laughter, waving at Haruka with the hand that wasn't covering his mouth, "It's nothing, I––"

_oh, but_

_it is something_

All at once, everything in Rin's head drew an abrupt, unexpected blank.

(Everything everything everything except––)

_I'm_

_pretty sure I love you_

_with every inch of who I am_

 

 

 

By the time Rin could ground this exact realization with words, Haruka was fast asleep.

"I'll just have to tell you later," he whispered into Haruka's hair, before burying his face in Haruka's arm;

(but the sound that followed his promise could have been a shatter, or a chime.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things.
> 
> One, as much as this chapter almost drove me insane (how hard is it to come up with a word for contraception that does not actually entail the prospect of conception?!), it was one I always knew I also had to write first.
> 
> Two, this chapter primarily exists so I can write the one that follows after it; fear not, that cock-block is only temporary in nature.
> 
> Three, there's only one way this rating's headed, and I can assure you it's not headed down.
> 
> In other words, next time on the same swimming hell channel: When Haru says he'll make it up to Rin, I mean _he'll make it up to Rin._
> 
> P.S. That video game is a combination of two games that exist irl. Guess which ones and win a microwave.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> I'm just going to leave this here.
> 
> (Please note that the rating has changed, and proceed accordingly.)

 

Hey.

_…Hey._

So, did you tell him yet?

_…What?_

About that night.

_…No._

Are you going to?

_…It won’t change anything._

Won’t it?

_…What do you even want?_

And what do you?

_…I want everything to stay the same._

But nothing stays the same forever.

_I…_

Hey.

_…Hey?_

It’s time to wake up.

 

 

 

_I’m so hungry._  

He felt it, rather than thought of it, in the drowsiness of stirring awake. That cut-out between falling asleep and coming to was something Haruka had gotten more than used to, in the past few days of waiting for the weekend; up until now, what had always followed was the restlessness of anticipation, one he was now surprised to find absent from his limbs.

In its stead now dwelled a lightness, almost blissful for how void it was of all sense and thought. Or would have been, had something far more primal not pierced that state of harmony: the faint scent of frying fish, drifting in from somewhere below his room.

It was all the distraction he needed to recall everything in a sudden jolt, like a flicker of lightning shooting through his spine and leaving his eyes wide.

( _this_ ah _are you_ hey _alright_ you could _it’s fine_ breathe breathe breathe  b r e a t h e)

The concept of _flashbacks_ , now that–– he had once heard Rin mutter how awkward it was to suddenly remember snapshots of their afternoons together while he was stuck in class, but Haruka had never really understood the full extent of what that meant until now.

Because his stomach nearly leaped into his chest at the vividness of each memory of (a touch) (a shudder) (a gaze) (a whimper) physical intimacy that had seemed so familiar and unknown all at once; and while so much of that overwhelming realization had remained at bay by the power of concern, what made every inch in Haruka’s body tense up was the memory of ( _this is you this is him he wants to feel you inside of him_ ) all his control coming undone.

Like unintentional emotional delay, it left Haruka choking out a gasp.

( _And now_

_you know_ )

Each delicate step down the stairs came with a hesitancy he could not name. Each shift of his muscles tugged on a soreness he had not known to anticipate. Each–– second between his room and the kitchen was like a softly undulating dream in the haze of the afternoon light; like the hours since Rin’s arrival did not belong to reality, and reality did not belong to them.

But when he crossed over to the living room, when his feet touched the ground and alerted Rin of his presence, the bewildered yet joyous look that lit up on that face was everything Haruka needed to slam back into life – and to understand it was far better than any dream.

“…That’s mine.”

When Haruka spoke, his words made Rin scrunch his brow, then instinctively glance down; the blue hoodie he wore was undoubtedly stolen from Haruka’s closet.

“So what,” he said, turning around to catch the pan before it burnt the fish into a crisp, “You steal my clothes all the time. It’s not my fault most of them don’t fit the other way around.”

The casualness of Rin’s tone was there to dispel any potential strangeness of standing in Haruka’s kitchen, wearing only a loose tank top and skintight boxers with a hoodie rolled up to his elbows; and it wasn’t that he had never pranced around the house in dubious states of undress, but it had usually not been ten past one in the afternoon.

(Haruka had, a couple of times after bath, only for Rin to throw things at him until he put more clothes on. The fact that no ladle struck Haruka’s forehead upon entering the room in a t-shirt and shorts was more than enough proof that Rin’s aloof attitude was all for show.)

Not that it was difficult to notice those tiny changes in Rin anyway, like corners of where their universe had shifted forever; the tousled strands of Rin’s hair when his back turned at Haruka, the light tint of pink that crept upon his neck, the delay in his gestures where he remembered how to operate a pan – in the hour or so Haruka had spent sleeping off the worst of his fatigue, whatever freakout Rin might have struggled with had lessened to solemn acceptance, yet one that still tugged at his natural, self-conscious nerve.

_But_

_He’s still here_

When Haruka buried his face in the back of Rin’s neck, once upon a time Rin’s surprise might have bashed him square with the back of his head. But it was a line of movement Haruka knew how to expect by now, having perfected the angle where the groove of Rin’s shoulder yielded under his weight; to treasure that split moment of warmth and comfort he’d nestled his head against on so many nights.

But it wasn’t comfort, that lit up tiny sparks in his fingertips at the scent of Rin’s skin;

it wasn’t warmth, that sent a wave of heat down his spine where he breathed Rin in;

( _because now you know you know you know you know you know_

_what it’s like to feel all of him_ )

“H, hey,” Rin uttered, his fluster revealing how expectant he must have felt waiting for either one of them to address the change; but as much as Haruka wished he could have addressed his own feelings in words, it felt easier to simply close his eyes and follow his instincts like he had done so many times before.

It was confidence that guided this instinct, though, placing tiny kisses on the base of Rin’s hair – the combination of experience and audacity was something Haruka found rather easy to adapt to, not pausing even when Rin laughed at the how Haruka’s lips tickled on his skin.

“I’m trying to, y’know–– cook here,“ Rin’s complained sarcastically, undoubtedly recognizing how often this exact scene played out the opposite way. But the quick kiss he stole in a turn of his head only served to remind Haruka of what had prompted him to approach Rin so directly in the first place; for how utterly and impossibly important it was to Haruka, time and time again,

_to make you feel what I feel_

_even if it’s in the only way I know how_

There may have been hesitation to his gestures earlier this morning, or a caution to every uttered breath. But along with relief had also come _pride_ , the will to return everything Rin had given him; something he now felt more at liberty to exert to its rawest little nerve, knowing there was nothing Rin expected him to hold back.

It was obvious that what Rin didn’t expect, though, were Haruka’s hands sliding down to his waist. The flinch of Rin’s shoulders came in sync with Haruka’s grip on his hips, but only out of honest surprise.

(These tiny nuances were still something Haruka couldn’t help but observe, because the slightest disconnection would have made him pull back; yet when Rin’s head tilted lightly to allow Haruka better access to his neck, the gentle tug to pull Rin closer to his body came with renewed confidence.)

“Ah, I’m still kinda–– y’know,” Rin stammered, unable to completely forfeit bashfulness once Haruka’s hand pushed underneath his top, accidentally locking Rin between himself and the sink. Yet regardless of Rin’s failure to verbally communicate his evident soreness, it wasn’t what Haruka had in mind to begin with – something Rin appeared genuinely bewildered to discover, when Haruka leaned into his ear and said,

“No, that’s not–– You don’t need to do anything, this time.”

The look on Rin’s face was almost worth giving up the warmth of his body when Haruka nudged him around; still, when his bewilderment shifted, the expression that set on his features sent Haruka’s heart spiralling off course.

It was bizarre, how one person could possess such an array of expressions, each designed solely to complicate Haruka’s life. No, it wasn’t _fair_ that Rin could go from smug and cocky to exuberant and kind, all the way to the look before him that no other person should ever be allowed to behold: short of breath, eyes alert and wide, teeth grazing at his bottom lip before Rin’s mouth twisted in a vulnerable, yet mischievous smile.

Perhaps it was the strength of that childish possessiveness that made him kiss Rin, more roughly than he had planned. But it didn’t seem to matter; whatever coyness still remained in Rin was quickly merging together with his residual arousal, with all the frustration he must have tried to will down while Haruka slept. In many ways, it made it a lot easier for Haruka to concentrate on lacing his fingers across the small of Rin’s back, letting Rin claim his mouth with his tongue while Haruka’s hands unceremoniously grasped at his ass.

For all this unusual directness, Haruka couldn’t help but note how swiftly Rin was learning to roll with the changes; he could still sense split second gaps where Rin’s self-consciousness adjusted with his heart, but more and more he would simply lean into the moment instead. All of it had to do with trust –trusting Haruka, trusting himself, trusting the undeniable fact that _both of them wanted this just as much_ _and always had_ –, but also the courage not to conceal this from the one person who shared his thoughts.

With Rin’s fingers tangled in Haruka’s hair and their bodies pinned together, it took considerable effort for Haruka to wrestle himself free when the nudge of Rin’s hard-on against his stomach yanked his mind back on course.

He’d meant what he’d said, after all; today may have already featured many firsts for both of them, but there was one more he did not want to miss.

(Haruka couldn’t say why, really. He’d thought of it, every so often, yet never felt the moment had been right to ask. But the image had never left him, always dancing somewhere at the back of his mind whenever Rin had whispered his name; after today, there seemed little point not to find out.)

“Wh, what are you––“ Rin managed, taken aback by the way Haruka’s head dipped unexpectedly. His knees hit the floor and his lips hit Rin’s abdomen in the one fluid movement he’d practiced a hundred times in his head, only for his tongue on Rin’s stomach to prompt a gasp unlike anything Haruka had imagined.

“Waitnowhatwaitwait _–_ –“

The frantic sputter of gears grinding together in Rin’s brain made his fingers clutch Haruka’s shoulders before he could advance. Tilting up his chin, Haruka glanced back with calm question on his face.

“No?”

Something unreadable flashed in Rin’s eyes, a furious scarlet lighting up his entire neck; yet when his grip faltered, Rin tilted his head to the side as if to avoid Haruka’s gaze when he muttered, “…Yes.”

In another time, the two of them could have easily spent the next fifteen minutes arguing over if _yes_ was in direct opposition to the _no_ , or whether it was meant to be _no_ , as in agreement through _yes_. But the deep breath Rin drew in in Haruka’s stead meant neither one of them had any real need to second guess Rin’s intention, any more than Haruka was inclined to dwell on pointless nothings – much more inclined to dwell, as it happened, on licking a wet trail down Rin’s lower abdomen before easing him out of his boxers, and concisely leaning his tongue on the underside of Rin’s cock.

For a split moment Haruka couldn’t resist glancing upwards, to catch Rin unintentionally holding in his breath; and how an entire row of sharp teeth dug into Rin’s lower lip so hard it must have _hurt_ once Haruka covered the head with his mouth.

The clatter of Rin knocking something over the kitchen counter could have been distracting, if Haruka wasn’t far more occupied with concentration. The initial seconds were still lost in fumbling angles, in learning how to wet his lips properly to not need to pull back, but there was also decidedly less second guessing once he figured out what he wanted to do.

(After all, Haruka hadn’t spent all that time for nothing, making note of each little shudder and whimper he normally elicited with his hand; it didn’t take a scientist, therefore, to calculate how Rin would react when Haruka ran his tongue down the length of his shaft instead.)

But the difference, for what it was worth, also confirmed every reason Haruka had ever had for entertaining this in his head: this time, he was so much more _in control_ of every twitch of Rin’s muscles, the breath that ragged in his lungs when Haruka’s lips dragged up and along his cock, applying more intensity when Rin intuitively reached forward. He must have been dying to bury his hands in Haruka’s hair, an ache radiating off his entire body; sensing those stifled shivers only sped up Haruka’s own heart, almost dumbfounded at how much the sight of Rin’s stimulation was capable of turning him on.

Whether he was really skilled for this or not was of none of Haruka’s real concern. Because that abrupt arousal clouded his head before he could stop himself, bridging what little distance remained between them by grabbing Rin’s ass; yet for all his self-assured success rate so far, the sudden change in depth sent Haruka coughing.

“ShitfuckfuckfuckHaruareyou _okay–_ –“

The fact that Rin’s brain could make that leap to concern so quickly almost made Haruka smile in spite of his embarrassment. Swallowing down the breath hitched in his windpipe, he brushed the side of his mouth to swallow down excess saliva.

“I’m fine. Sorry. I got–– I just got carried away.”

“Shit,” Rin choked out, his cheeks an ambiguous shade of lust, panic and worry, clearly unable to decide which of these overruled the others. “Don’t scare me like that. If that–– fuck, if that’s how you died, you think Nagisa would ever let me live it down?”

No, Haruka could definitely not stop a smile. “You mean, choking on your––“

“ _SHUT UP, HARU_ ,” Rin cried out, kneeing Haruka in the thigh.

Fighting back his amusement, Haruka returned his fury with a nod.

“Okay,” he said, feigning blank compliance long enough to catch a high-pitched wheeze filtering through Rin’s teeth as soon as his lips closed around his cock anew.

Whatever self-restraint had been holding Rin back before decidedly came apart around the time Haruka made up for his former mistake by carefully applying pressure where he knew Rin was at his most sensitive; the trembling hands that pulled at Haruka’s hair were pleading as opposed to demanding, intertwining helplessly once Haruka’s fingers moved over the area by the base of Rin’s testicles.

“Shitfuckshitfuckshit––“ Rin repeated like a prayer, but for reasons very different from fear. Picking up the pace, Haruka realized at the last minute that he had hardly thought any further than this – but while he honestly would not have minded Rin climaxing in his mouth, a rough yank pulled Haruka up by the shirt seconds before Rin crushed their mouths together, a kiss and a moan merging together on his lips.

“….Shit,” Rin breathed out, worn out defeat in his tone.

Haruka remained silent with the excuse of letting Rin piece his consciousness together, but in truth, part of his mind was reeling with a blur equal to Rin’s own. It made Haruka breathe out in sharp gasps, until his muscles relaxed and their foreheads bumped together in unspoken agreement; leaning his hands against the countertop, the forgotten heat of the stove and Rin’s ragged breath felt curiously in sync and out of place at once.

Still, when he felt Rin’s hands shuffle and heard him swear under his breath anew, part of Haruka also felt… a little guilty.

“Sorry. That… that wasn’t very romantic.”

The nudge of Rin’s shoulders gave away his surprise at Haruka’s exact wording. His response stalled, but only until he seemingly figured out whether to deal with Haruka or the mess in his hand first.

“…Well, that was always supposed to be my specialty, right?”

When Haruka pulled back his head, the affection that danced on Rin’s lips almost made Haruka’s heart hurt.

(In the end, the fish burnt.)

 

 

 

If Haruka had ever kept count of his personal record of baths taken in a single day, today might easily rank somewhere in the top digits. Granted, if you never left that bath, it only counted as one – whereas today hitched the count to three before the clock had so much as hit three p.m. 

This time, they bathed separately. Not only because Rin legged it the second his legs regained enough strength to carry him upstairs, but because somehow, Haruka knew both of them still needed the individual down-time to process each change. As naturally as everything had come to him today, it was impossible to refute how life had nonetheless once more changed for good: listening to the sounds of running water, Haruka could almost feel the re-defined edges of his reality threading together in a glowing weave.

It wasn’t a bad feeling;

but he also didn’t know what it meant.

He had _felt all this_ before, after all, in the minutes and hours and days following the night he and Rin had first kissed; the subsequent need to _be with him_ had rendered Haruka disoriented and stunned for days. But while he had grown to accept those parts of himself until that helplessness eventually lulled into a familiarity that brought him more solace than anxiety, what he hadn’t prepared for was… well, this:

_You can go in now_ , Rin said, toweling his hair with one hand, and when his arm reached behind his shoulder and stretched the curve of his bicep, all Haruka could do was _stare_.

_Hey, are you deaf?_ Rin snapped, crossing over to the kitchen, and when his shoulders flexed to relieve tension after his bath, all Haruka could do was _stare_.

_What, you didn’t buy any sports drinks yesterday?_ Rin muttered, and when he leaned over to reach further into the fridge, his back turned to reveal each finely crafted line from his calves to his thighs to his _wait has it–– has his–– have the muscles of his ass always been so clearly defined_ , all Haruka could do was try and remember how to breathe.

“Yo,” Rin glanced over his shoulder, then frowned. “Are you going or not?”

Haruka opened his mouth, but when his brain failed to conjure any response other than blunt variations of _Were you always this ridiculously attractive_ , he simply got to his feet, turned around, and walked out of the room.

The answer to all of these questions was, of course, _yes_ ; since the night at the closed down swimming club, since empty Summer nights before their reconciliation, since the morning Haruka had woken up in Samezuka and understood how badly he needed to touch every inch of skin on the body of this impossible idiot, he had _always_ wanted Rin – but leaning back in the tub, Haruka could finally understand the strength of the flashbacks gripping him as soon as he closed his eyes.

It wasn’t that he had ever felt any less physically attracted to Rin, but

_you just never knew how much of him you could have_

He tried not to think of this, later, when they finished sharing a less charred piece of fish and Rin pointed a chopstick in his face, insisting Haruka had sabotaged him on purpose.

He tried not to think about it when Rin reclined against his knee afterwards, and another pointless celebrity on TV was quizzed about his meibutsu preferences like a bizarre re-run of this morning.

But what Haruka couldn’t help thinking about was the irony in all of this: of how his fear of pressuring Rin into anything had forced Haruka to feign normalcy mere hours ago, only for his lack of honesty to leave them both detached.

“Rin. Are you interested in this program at all?”

Rin’s head craned up, and he gave Haruka a peculiar look. “Not really. Why?”

Haruka didn’t fear his words being mistaken for pressure anymore, but still swallowed before he spoke.

“…Are you still sore?”

Rin’s eyes grew wider, just as Haruka had expected, but there was also a commendable speed at which he processed information without initially blue-screening anymore; it didn’t mean his response was any more composed, but this time Rin’s voice clearly lacked a hesitant nerve.

“…That’s–– No, I think I’m–– Well, I can’t say for sure but–– shit, it’s fine, okay?”

“Okay,” Haruka replied, pausing before he went on. As much as he couldn’t avoid the light heat on his cheeks before he spoke, after a conversation-opener like that it would have been pointless not to follow through.

“Can we go to my room?”

Rin blinked.

Then again.

“Uh. Uh, huh. Huh. Yeah,” he finally said, as if forgetting which of these words expressed agreement; but when he grabbed Haruka’s hand to leverage himself off the floor, Rin’s hold was as firm as that time right out of the bath.

(As he followed Haruka into the hallway, Rin skipped ahead and instead pulled Haruka along; and when they finally reached Haruka’s bedroom, it was Rin’s arms on Haruka’s waist, before Haruka could so much as cross the door.)

“Do you–– This time, would you rather it was you who––“

Haruka’s words halted at Rin’s expression, which seemed not to have taken this possibility into account at all. His brows scrunched briefly, before smoothing with something sheepish and smug at the same time.

“…Eventually, yeah,” Rin said, averting his gaze, yet clinging to the sarcastic smile that followed. “…But I think you should pass your seventy percent score before you’re officially allowed to teach me how.”

Haruka felt a vein in his head twitch with intuitive pride, but he could not fault Rin’s logic. “Alright. I know I still owe you one.”

At this, Rin once more appeared surprised. “What about–– you know, what you did before?”

“That doesn’t count,” Haruka said, lightly shaking his head. “It’s… it was just something I really wanted to do.”

In the split moment between Rin returning his gaze and yanking Haruka closer to himself, Haruka could have sworn he saw the exact frame where a switch flicked on in Rin’s head. Or a fair number of switches, possibly, because there was nothing unclear about the haste at which Rin’s lips found his jaw and pulled at his shirt, backtracking until Haruka tripped off balance and sprawled on top of Rin.

How ironic, indeed;

all these hours, re-defining the boundaries of _then_ and _now_ with daunting speed; because as much as Rin still flushed scarlet when Haruka addressed technicalities, even the slightest experience separating him from the fumbling mess of this morning gave Rin enough confidence to stifle self-conscious panic. Haruka could tell, because it was the same knowledge that _one way or another, you can do this, you can do this together_ that helped him keep calm – the Haruka of _then_ may have forced himself to focus, but the Haruka of _now_ leaned over Rin and rested his hands on his stomach with sincere ease.

It was an ease that seemed short-lived, though; because what this advanced calmness also brought in its wake was that, well,

it made Haruka notice _everything_ :

every curve, every ridge of muscle, a tiny trail of fire between his fingertips and Rin’s skin;

every graze of Rin’s teeth on his earlobe, and the breath of laughter where Rin spoke the words _hey, what’s with the grope-fest_ against his neck;

and how nothing nothing _nothing none of it_ still seemed like it was _e n o u g h_

(like a growing ache somewhere deep within Haruka, fueled by how much he _wanted_ it to consume him, by how overwhelming it would continue to feel the more he kept throwing himself at it without reserve)

_I need_

_everything of you_

It was a thought that sent the tiniest slither of unrest through his heart, but it was gone before Haruka could properly hold on. In the next second, the sound of his name leaving Rin’s lips blurred everything else, and the kiss that followed drowned any remnant of uneasiness from his head.

Rin’s jaw still tightened in a mild wince when Haruka’s fingers initially entered him, but he swore on his family’s honour that his muscles were fine. In all honesty, Haruka would have easily preferred a more ideal situation for familiarizing himself with Rin’s angles, but the look that lit on Rin’s face made it imposible to argue: if the half-bashful, half-hopeful Rin in his kitchen had made Haruka jealous in advance, the added weight of unapologetic need in his gaze now made Haruka contemplate outlawing it on principle.

“I think–– it might be easier if you turn around, if you’re alright with me setting the pace.”

Rin’s response was something inaudible, either on purpose or simply lost in the blush he was fighting off with all his might. Shifting on his elbows, Rin’s knees dug into the mattress as his spine arched out, and in spite of having anticipated this exact scene (with more enthusiasm than was probably altruistic), Haruka felt his head growing light.

Having lived most of his life around other swimmers, it really should not have made a difference. He remembered Gou sometimes sighing at the sheer miracle of _finely refined athlete’s behind_ , but muscles were just muscles – they shaped bodies whether you wanted to or not, and served a purpose very different than aesthetic wonder. But if today had drawn Haruka’s attention to the contours of Rin’s body in ways he hadn't been mentally prepared for, how was he supposed to function normally at the sight of his flexed thighs, the smooth lines running along the back of Rin’s legs to the curve of his ass?

It took everything in Haruka’s power to ignore the near painful reminder of his hard-on, knowing that he did, as it happened, have a promise to keep; he had sworn to himself that this time around Rin would come before he did, whether or not it meant losing one or two brain cells in the process out of stifled hormonal frenzy.

“Just tell me when it feels better,” he forced out, allowing himself one brief trace of his fingers over Rin’s ass before gently easing them back in. Once more, Rin replied with something that possibly resembled a language in some parts of the world, but also leaned back into his touch; his eagerness sent a wave of flutters across Haruka’s chest, mingling his physical need with the softness of Rin’s trust.

(Because it would never, ever stop taking him aback, witnessing that trust in full – the drive he had always envied in Rin, reaching out to welcome the sides of Haruka that he had never genuinely felt someone could have use for. But if Rin could push through his inhibitions for him, if Rin yielded this much in spite of his pride and fear, if Rin could learn to _share himself enough to allow Haruka into every part of his life_ , then maybe, maybe…)

“Ah, that’s––“

Rin’s shoulders buckled lightly, bracing one elbow against the mattress. “Maybe–– you might have been close–– But––“

Drawing in his breath, there was a definite impatience to his voice. “…Look, if I promise to rank you higher than eighty percent, will you–– promise we’re not gonna spend the whole goddamn day trying to perfect your technique?!”

The comment knit Haruka’s brows together. “…But you have to be able to enjoy it.”

“I _will_ ,” Rin literally groaned this time, and there was a thump where his fist hit a pillow, “It’s with you, isn’t it?”

As clichéd as it must have been, it only took this display of spirit to yank down Haruka’s artificial patience. Inhaling deeply, he reached out his other arm and no longer resisted drawing a heavy arc down Rin’s spine, causing Rin’s back to bend along on reflex.

Leaning up to press his chest against Rin’s back, Haruka finally withdrew his fingers and lightly landed a kiss on both of his shoulder blades before murmuring, “…You sure?”

“Seventy nine percent, _Nanase_ ,” Rin grit through his teeth; instead of feeling disheartened at his already decreasing score, though, Haruka’s mouth twisted into a small smile.

Rin couldn’t see this, of course – any more than he would come to witness Haruka swallowing down a single helpless whimper, when his meticulous preparation rewarded him with far more lenient access. The first time he had entered Rin had felt like washing over his senses with a white hot wave, naïvely leading Haruka to believe he knew what to expect; but his recent sensitivity left little room to escape the slow submerge of pleasure that caught Haruka unaware, now that he could focus on the full impact of their bodies adjoining together.

_Haah_ , was the sound that Rin made on his behalf, fingers twisting instinctively at the pillow he had mauled. With a light nudge of his knee, Haruka beckoned at Rin to lean his legs into the mattress; when he rested his weight over Rin’s back, their similar heights allowed Haruka to nestle his head against Rin’s shoulder, breathing in one, two heavy breaths before he so much as dreamed to continue.

“Won’t that make it more difficult for you,” Rin muttered, and when he turned his head, even the red hair that spilled over his face could not conceal the light cloudiness in Rin’s eyes.

“I don’t care,” Haruka mustered in response, unable to contain his full honesty. “…I don’t like being apart.”

It made Rin draw in a sharp breath, then shift until his right arm could pull up Haruka’s hand. Running his lips across the knuckles, there was a smile in his voice that Haruka both heard and felt when Rin simply said, “….Yeah.”

And really, there wasn’t much more to say; not when the warmth of Rin’s body against Haruka’s chest sparked enough reason to lean back for a second thrust (one that made him hiss into Rin’s shoulder), for a second attempt to make Rin understand just how much it meant to Haruka to have this chance, to try and express how much he––

(Somewhere at the back of his head, through the slowly amassing layers of pleasure, something sharp and defiant kept screaming away at Haruka – to not manifest those thoughts into words, lest they leave his lips on a poorly-guarded moment devoid of consequence;

but it was also a voice slowly blurring into the pounding of Rin’s heartbeat, the sound of his cadence quickening in succession to Haruka’s steady pace, until Haruka could no longer hear anything from the bellowing noise of heat rushing in his ears.)

Perhaps it was instinct, then, that led him to push back on his knees upon the pressure building up in his body. The yank that pulled Rin along was a little awkward, all sense of direction lost somewhere in the depths of an impending orgasm, but there was nothing like resolve born out of pride: when Haruka’s left palm closed around Rin’s cock, it was a legitimate cry of relief that escaped Rin, and it sobered Haruka enough to not fumble while his hand proceeded to finish him off in steady, determined jerks.

“I’m going to–– eventually––“ Haruka spoke through gasps of air, “Get this right–– without––“

“Shut up _shut up JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND DON’T STOP,_ ” Rin’s instantly countered without any trace of shame, his fingers twitching around the hand he had pinned down. Haruka had seen him come a number of times before, but there had never quite been such a frantic edge to his voice; it prompted his grip to tighten, his pace to hasten, triggering another litany of curses under Rin’s breath.

The syllables soon died in his throat, though; with an abruptness that caught them both off guard, Rin’s back arched violently a second or two before his body spasmed, and with a broken moan he came in Haruka’s hand.

To add on a long list of things Haruka had naïvely not accounted for, the tremors that shot through Rin’s body connected with each particle of Haruka’s skin like electricity. In retrospect, this surprise alone would have rendered all conscious or instinctive restraint impossible – the overload of stimulus caught Haruka so off guard that the lowness of his cry nearly seared his throat dry when he climaxed inside Rin.

Even if he hadn’t weighed less than Rin, Haruka couldn’t have helped toppling them both right into the mattress. Before, stress and concentration had been largely to blame for his exhaustion, but the strength that drained from his body this time was different; it left him gasping like something dragged out of the ocean, short-circuiting for a precious few minutes until Haruka could once more recall what it felt like to possess a set of functioning limbs.

“God,” Rin groaned somewhere beneath his arm, “What the _fuck_.”

Haruka had no words to offer to him in response, only a wheeze making its way up his lungs.

Grunting, Rin wrestled enough of Haruka off him to rest his head closer to his; an unmistakable disbelief tinted his voice when he next spoke.

“Whoever invented that, is a fucking lunatic.”

Haruka nudged his head in a nod.

“….We’re gonna do it again as soon as possible though, right?” Rin went on, a rare and unabashed grin revealing sharp teeth, and a stream of bubbles tickled Haruka’s stomach where he didn’t bother stifling his laughter.

 

 

 

_As soon as possible_ , of course, meant some other time altogether – assuming either one of them wanted to be physically capable of attending practice the next day. Haruka knew they were already pushing the limits of their current endurance, but it was hard to regret making that choice when there was something about Rin’s afterglow that made him radiate like the sun.

Leaning against the headboard of the bed, Rin’s fingers kept drawing tiny shapes on Haruka’s shoulders, tugging on his hair, hardly ever breaking physical contact even while Haruka remained curled up in his arms.

“––and then Captain said, _how would you feel if Nitori ever became captain_ , and I said, _yeah good luck with THAT_ ,” Rin explained animatedly, referring to a conversation from days before; he had cued Haruka in on the unintentional pep talk with Mikoshiba on Friday, although it only made Haruka wonder why Rin was so insistent on hating every deity in the universe when clearly, they were trying to smooth each roadblock on his path.

As the softness of Rin’s meaningless chatter washed over him, Haruka closed his eyes. The prospect of napping still loomed tempting in his mind, but Haruka would rather remain awake to treasure this exact moment: Rin’s confidence and happiness, flowing out of each touch and tone; the last of Autumn’s warmth, sealing a glow over his bare shoulders; the weightlessness of these dreamlike hours, on a Saturday that seemed to never come to an end.

_So why not tell him now_

Haruka’s breathing stilled.

It was the thought that had haunted him, ever since regaining consciousness by the poolside to the sound of Makoto’s voice. Whether he shut it down, whether he ran along with it, it was impossible to win; it had only been–– three days, yet Haruka was finding it harder with each to pretend like it wasn’t there.

(A gentle, firm sound echoing everything he knew to be true in his heart, but still resisted having to put into actual words;

_because once you say it_

_you’ll never get it back_

_and nothing might ever be the same)_

Haruka swallowed, opening his eyes and staring at the blank ceiling he had found waiting for him for the vast majority of his seventeen years.

“…Rin. What do you think happens next?”

Behind him, Haruka felt Rin resting his chin over his shoulder. Rin’s nose nudged at Haruka’s cheek, and the arms around him held on a little tighter. “Huh? That depends on what you want to do. I guess we have to make dinner eventually, or if there’s finally something other than food and celebrities on TV, maybe––“

“No, I mean–– _later_ ,” Haruka cut him off, a funny frustration edging the bluntness back into his tone.

Rin shrugged. “…Well, Makoto’s birthday is in a couple of weeks,” he said, racking through his brain for their upcoming schedule, “So there’s that. And then… well, I guess it’ll be December, and Christmas, I guess? And New Year.”

Haruka swallowed again; he tried not to let his agitation show, aware that Rin’s failure to understand him was once again nobody’s fault but his own.

“No, I…”

_Because it’s you who keeps avoiding having to find out the answer_

Haruka sighed, lowering his gaze.

“…Rin, what’s going to happen to all of _this_?”

It rendered Rin silent at once.

(And it wasn’t–– it was the last, the very final thing in the whole world that Haruka wanted to ask, but he couldn’t not; because his conscience might keep hounding him day after day, but it was humanly impossible to _tell Rin_ the very words he was dying to let go unless he also _knew_ ––)

“…I don’t know,” Rin finally breathed out, leaning his head back against the headboard. His hold was still tight, and Haruka felt himself leaning along. “I guess that depends on–– well, what do you _want_ to happen?”

The memory of this line gave Haruka a physical start, and on instinct, he craned his head around to hold Rin’s direct gaze.

There was absolutely nothing guarded or rehearsed on Rin’s face; only an honesty that lit his eyes like the night under the stars, like the night in Samezuka, and all the while Haruka’s mind kept screaming _tell him tell him tell him tell him  t e l l  h i m––_

“All I know is that after Spring, Captain’s going to graduate, and I’m going to do my best to get on the new team.“

( _tell him you never want him to leave)_

“––So I can make it to the finals, and get scouted.”

And then,

complete silence.

It lasted for a second, two seconds, before picking up a hum in his ears; when Haruka lifted his eyes, all he could hear was crashing water, like an entire ocean reaching out to welcome him in.

_(the sound of a wind wave, the sinking of a chime)_

“Haru?”

_(the sound of something breaking, or)_

“Hey, Haru?”

_(a moment, forever lost in time)_

From the creases on Rin’s brow, it was clear he sensed a sudden disconnect; reaching out, he pulled Haruka around to properly face him, holding Haruka by the arms. “…You knew that, though, right? It’s not my dad’s dream to go to the Olympics anymore, but my own.”

When a forced muscle tugged the corners of Haruka’s mouth upwards, another made his head nod, and for the first time in his life Haruka knew what it meant to smile in automated response.

“I know,” he said. “…Of course.”

Although this failed to convince Rin’s instincts, the unusual change in atmosphere made him stall before rubbing the back of his neck. Lost in an obvious fluster, Rin sighed deeply before he glanced back at Haruka.

“Listen, Haru… There’s… there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

As he went on, there was a stiffness to Rin's entire posture, and he was suddenly unable to meet Haruka’s eye. “Something that I… well, I guess I didn’t really know how to say it before, ‘cause I wasn’t sure if I…”

Rin caught himself trailing off, then shook his head with more conviction. A vulnerability Haruka had only rarely witnessed crossed his face, and his voice came out fragile and small.

“I guess I wanted to save this for some other time, but… I can tell you’re upset about something, and whether it's anything I said–- I just want you to know that it–– it doesn’t really matter what happens later.”

Struggling to retain an honest smile, it almost seemed like Rin could sense something slipping from his reach, yet leaped after it anyway. “‘Cause the only thing that really does, well–– to me anyway–– is that–– Shit, I… Haru, you... you do know that I––“

_(too late)_

When Haruka’s phone buzzed alive on his shelf, Rin nearly swallowed his tongue.

Haruka’s head whipped around in recognition of the special ringtone he had set. It was one he had ignored for the past two weeks, first on accident, then on purpose; but to ignore it now would mean having to explain as much to Rin, and he just–– couldn’t do that, or anything, in his purely automated state.

And maybe it was this automation, leading Haruka out of bed, making him pick up the phone and press a green dial icon beneath the name _Mother_ ;

(making him stand there wearing the same blank mask of apathy that had defined the vast majority of his seventeen years, like the blank ceiling, like this blank room, like the blankness that trickled through him at the memory of his mother’s voice)

_Ah–– Sweetie? I’m so glad you finally picked up. We’ve tried calling you for–– a while now, I suppose, and I’ve been worried since you wouldn’t answer. Since your accident, the Tachibanas said you’re fine, but–– Listen, your father and I really feel like it would be best if we saw you soon. I’m coming over to Tokyo for next weekend, so I was wondering if you could meet me there–– we could talk a little, about your future, and whether or not there’s anything weighing down your mind._

“Alright,” Haruka said.

_Alright, alright_ , he repeated, holding the phone in his hand even after there was nothing but silence down the line at the end of the call; it still felt like muscle memory, still felt like automation, and none of it, none of it felt like anything at all.

When he finally turned to Rin, the look Haruka received was full of puzzled concern.

“Who was that?” Rin asked, the innocence of his tone disclosing how oblivious he was to the conversation that had just taken place.

Haruka glanced at the phone, then at Rin.

When his response came, Haruka did not need the ringing of a single chime to know the choice he had made.

“A wrong number.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days these kids are going to know what they're doing, and when that happens, I am going to write the shit out of that sex without it being super awkward.
> 
> But that day is not today.
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: The Iwatobi kids are Rin's friends, too.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four chapters and an epilogue left (including this one).
> 
> Slowly but surely we're headed for the end; which is why I've decided to put most of my other stories on the backburner while I work to finish Wind Waves instead. I harbor a kind of hope that I might reach that end by the turn of New Year, and whether or not it's a realistic goal with the amount of work I have in real life draining my time, it's one that's nonetheless my aim.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

_you can't come over this weekend. i'll be in tokyo._

The words on the display were undeniably Japanese, undeniably formed a sentence, and undeniably more incomprehensible than anything Rin remembered having read since the first time he opened a book on English grammar.

He stared at the message for a good while, trying to wreck his brain around any possible meaning that would have answered rather than complicated the words. The first two sentences were simple enough – they made sense in context, only to crash the remaining one head first into a stone wall.

**why the fuck are u going to tokyo?!**

It was an unnecessary expletive, but one perhaps pardoned by the abruptness of Haruka's remark. Up until the moment his response had hit Rin's phone, the chain of messages had been like any other, after all; waged between eight and nine p.m. on a Friday night, from a vague conversation opener ( **a shark and a bear get into a fistfight, who wins???** ) to the blunt reply ( _you're an idiot. also, bear_ ), to a question ( **so what are you doing rn anyway** ) followed by something bizarre ( _reading a book on famous waterfalls_ ).

It was a routine they had perfected in the past few months, down to the transparent nonchalance and jokes; a routine that only existed as a reminder of each day drawing to a close, that somewhere at the end of the week was something both of them could look forward to every night.

But not tonight.

It took longer than usual for Haruka to type up a reply, but when the message lit up the screen, the matter-of-factness of Haruka’s response almost made Rin drop his phone.

_i’m supposed to go and talk about my future._

…Wait.

Wait wait wait wait _WAIT_ ––

In that single moment Rin felt himself bombarded by a myriad of conflicting thoughts, as if a part of him was single-handedly throwing itself off the side of a canyon.

Because there was but one conceivable way he could interpret Haruka's words, in an eloquent process of _what the hell what the hell WHAT THE HELL?!_ transforming into the instinctive _did someone scout him did they scout him DID SOMEONE NOTICE HOW AMAZING HE IS ALREADY IN HIS SECOND YEAR?!;_ only to slither into childish envy, as the _why is it him why isn't it me WHY JUST HIM_ crept in a heartbeat later, with an ease he could not deny.

Yet the one thought, the one thing that rang out louder than anything else in the discord of warring emotions, was the one he also expressed in words:

**why the hell didn’t you tell me?!**

He wasn't sure if it filled him more with surprise than unease; there was no conceivable chance Haruka was travelling cross-country to see someone –a recruiter? a trainer? the goddamn emperor of Japan?– simply on a day’s notice. Haruka's bluntness at the subject merely underlined this contradiction, as if somewhere along the way he _had_ mentioned it, as impossible as it would have been for Rin not to remember.

_i'm telling you now._

No, there it was.

Rin wasn't going nuts with sudden amnesia, after all; the admission was as impersonal as the flat words on the screen, prompting a spark of annoyance strong enough to send Rin’s thumb flicking across the menus and hit a green dial tone.

Haruka picked up after the first ring.

“What the hell?” Rin cut the introductions short, and the abrupt shuffle in the bunk above signalled Nitori’s sudden start at the harshness of his tone. “Did you think you’d–– were you just going to disappear to Tokyo and not let me know?!”

The line distorted Haruka’s voice with an artificial detachment, one Rin hated to hear.

“It’s only a weekend, Rin.”

“Yeah, but––“

“It’s not such a big deal.”

The flippancy of Haruka’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. When he spoke, Rin could nearly picture Haruka’s exact face: eyes still as water, glazed with the darkness of the sea, like every other time Rin had confronted him about something Haruka hadn’t deemed important enough to share.

It wasn’t the tiny things he had ever cared about, like the schedules, or his homework, or what Haruka's teachers had to say. Sure, in an ideal world Rin wouldn’t have needed to piece together the edges of Haruka’s life from Makoto, but he had also long since grown to accept this was how Haruka _worked_ ; that whatever details he withheld out of indifference, he could also make up for in intensity through, well, other means.

But this wasn’t like the time Haruka failed to tell Rin about being submitted for an art contest. This wasn’t like the time he got told off for skipping cleaning duty. Because if what Haruka was really going to Tokyo for was to discuss his career prospects, then it was a _huge_ deal, because it was Haruka’s _future_ ––

(No, _their_ future, and––)

Taking a deep breath, Rin willed himself patient before his natural impulsiveness risked derailing the entire conversation.

“Haru,” he began, choosing his words with care. “…Look, I have no idea what’s going on, but I _know_ it’s a bigger deal to you than you’re making it out to be. You don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to, but––“

“There’s nothing to say.”

But a person’s patience only lasts so long.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Rin felt the tiny kindling of anger bursting aflame, and his fingers tightly gripped the phone.

(Because it made him think of the night in this very room, when he had momentarily allowed himself to forget the wave of terror that gripped him in the wake of Nagisa's frantic text; when Haruka had broken down in his arms, reaching past all contempt and refusal to acknowledge Rin's concern; when Rin had thought, if only for a flickering heartbeat, that Haruka had actually _understood_ ––)

Rin swallowed, and his throat felt bitter as it felt hoarse.

_I thought I told you told you told you told you_

_to stop doing this to me_

“Fine,” Rin replied dryly, unable to stifle the words before they left him in a bitter grunt, “Have a great fucking trip, Haru.”

Then he hung up.

Afterwards, he sat there holding his phone; as if waiting for it to come alive, as if Haruka might magically realize what an idiot he was, as if somehow any of that could help Rin take back his own impulsiveness and grudge.

It didn’t.

“Fuck!!” he swore, eliciting a loud thump above where part of Nitori’s startled body collided with the wall.

 

 

 

Of course he was overreacting.

Between Friday night and Saturday morning, it didn't take long for Rin to reach this conclusion. He might have been hot-headed, but he also wasn't _that_ naïve – Haruka's selfishness was irritating, yes, yet also little more than a tug on the leash of anxieties tethered to Rin since the weekend at Haruka's house.

He'd told himself it was fine.

They'd spent what remained of Saturday revising homework; between bickering and finding various excuses to lightly touch one another, it felt weird to think the shift in their universe would ever come to an end. For the rest of the weekend, Rin could almost forget about his butchered confession, trying to discover ways to channel all this hormonal tension in a less physically compromising way – like jogging around the town. (Twice.)

He'd told himself it was fine.

On Sunday morning, he'd felt Haruka's arms reaching out to cradle his waist in his sleep; when they’d had to part for practice, Haruka had kissed him goodbye at the door, and Rin had finally allowed himself to believe that nothing, absolutely nothing was wrong.

_but was that because he never said anything_

_or because you never found the courage to ask?_

(Because no amount of light-hearted messages during the week could make Rin stop second-guessing what had briefly caused Haruka to shut down and disconnect; in the hours following their bizarre discussion on the future, his inability to tell Haruka about his feelings had also come to paralyze the one nerve that could have ever hoped to address the cause.)

But he'd told himself it was fine.

He'd find a way to tell Haruka again, and he'd find a way to ask.

He was fine.

Everything was fine, fine, fine––

...And yet, the second he found an opening in Haruka's blatant stand-offishness, all that excess anxiety had come bleeding out; it wasn't the first time Rin had turned his personal failures into bitterness towards Haruka and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last, but the combined weight of frustration and anger made it impossible for Rin to pick up the phone.

Haruka didn't pick it up either, though.

The only one who did, was the person behind a convoluted message at roughly 1:12 am – one Rin had to read through three times in the blinding light of the display screen before he figured out what it said.

 _tomorrow. 2 pm. penguin cafe. come alone. don't tell the police. wear something cute!_ （๑✧∀✧๑） _RINRIN PLS COME I MISS YOUR SWEET DELICATE FACE I KNOW YOU'VE NOTHING ELSE TO DO_ ٩(๑òωó๑)۶

In normal circumstances, Nagisa’s invitation probably should have sent Rin running for the hills.

Not because he didn’t, as a matter of fact, like Nagisa (honest!), but because the kid also possessed an ability to disregard his self-consciousness in a manner that had always struck Rin with equal amounts of fascination and fear. In any other situation, having nobody to deflect that attention on would have felt unnerving; right now, though, the part of Rin that couldn't decide between martyrdom and self-loathing was craving for _someone_ to at least pretend like they gave a crap about what he thought.

Maybe it would be a mistake, maybe it wouldn't.

(With Nagisa, it was sometimes very hard to tell.)

Still, Rin found himself typing up a drowsy response, hitting a few wrong keys before pressing send.

**syure.**

**i’ll comew.**

 

 

 

"Has anyone ever told you the amount of sugar you consume is absurd?"

Lifting his gaze from behind a 10 inch parfait, the look Nagisa shot back was awfully unashamed for someone surrounded by so many strawberries, chocolate flakes, and wafers covered in whipped cream.

"Hey, how did you know that's exactly what Rei-chan asks me every day!" he smiled, and the tilt of his head was exuberant enough for a lock of light hair to tumble over his eyes; to his left, Rei sighed and shook his head.

Pushing back in his seat, Rin briefly wondered whether Rei would appreciate an invitation to his exclusive _Victims of Dumbass Boyfriends_ club. Hell, he could even be extra thoughtful and re-title it _Victims of Dumbass Boyfriends Where Some Members Suck at Butterfly And Some Do Not._

“This is how you're planning to get into finals next year, isn't it?” Rin mused, scratching the back of his head in mock-contemplation, “One of you can’t swim, so Nagisa’s turning himself into a personal floating device.”

"How observant of you, Rin-san," Rei replied dryly, while Nagisa merely humoured Rin's jab with a stick of his tongue.

To be fair, it was a joke Rin told himself to evade the obvious: with or without any moral obligations, it was Rin who had found himself in front of a café decorated in yellow penguin motifs (why yellow? and penguins? were they all suffering from some kind of avian liver disease?) on a Saturday afternoon; Rin, who had personally chosen to make the trip across town just to witness Nagisa stuffing his face with ice cream (but then again, there were probably a lot of people on the internet who would have paid a lot of money for the chance to see that kind of thing).

Before he could pull out his phone and discover an alternative means of funding all his train tickets, though, Nagisa pointed his spoon at Rin, and the smile on his face twisted with an ominously innocent edge.

“Speaking of life preservers, Rin-chan,” he began, clinking the spoon against the tiny plate, and turned over to shuffle through his bag. “I have special gift for you!”

The wave of recognition on Rei's face ought to have alerted Rin, far before his words ever did.

"Nagisa-kun, _no_ ––" was all Rei managed before Nagisa's arms were already halfway across the table, something flat and rectangular in his hands; Rin's eyes flicked unsuspectingly over the cutesy images of a Rilakkuma and Korilakkuma eating pancakes, a second before they reached the words on the top right corner starting with _Okamo––_

He wasn't sure what the exact profanities were that escaped him, lost in the clatter of his entire palm slamming against the table and sending three of Nagisa's strawberries flying in a shower of cornflakes.

As most of the other patrons in the café intuitively turned to stare, Rei sighed dejectedly into the collar of his shirt. A waitress quickly hurried over to wipe away what had spilled of the dessert, while Rin's fingers gripped the box hard enough to put rigor mortis to shame.

"What?" Nagisa puffed out his cheeks, and crossed his arms over his chest in an under-appreciated pout. "Now that Rin-chan has chosen to enter the world of adults, he needs to be responsible and safe!"

Upon Rin's failure to still produce coherent speech, Rei shot him a pained look.

"Nagisa-kun," he said, shaking his head, "...I'm sure Rin-san appreciates your concern for his health very much. But I'm also certain he didn't come here to discuss the, ah, _private_ parts of his relationship with Haruka-senpai."

The sound of Haruka's name came like a trigger for both Rin and Nagisa; one struggled out of his stupor, while the other glanced down with something resembling regret.

"I'm sorry," Nagisa mumbled staring into his ice cream, and the shame in his voice was honest enough to calm the side of Rin that wanted to feed him to a herd of sharks. "...I forgot you and Haru-chan were having a fight."

How Nagisa had unearthed this particular component of Rin's life, well, asking that might have been as much of a mystery as to how Nagisa knew he and Haruka had had sex. While the reality of both was undeniably embarrassing to acknowledge, deep down Rin also felt relieved over all the details he no longer needed to explain.

"It's," he began, still unable to shake off the self-consciousness of addressing their argument, "...It's really not that big of a deal."

_It's not such a big deal._

The abrupt memory of Haruka's words made him wince, for how easy Rin found them to parrot. A fresh wave of annoyance washed over any spontaneous desire to make excuses on Haruka's behalf, and he groaned into the palm of his hand.

"...Okay, so Haru's a selfish idiot," Rin muttered, "What else is new?"

Shifting in his seat, Rei's fingers fidgeted with the handle of his tea cup before he cleared his throat. "...You're talking about Haruka-senpai visiting Tokyo for some kind of personal business, right? Makoto-senpai told us he would."

The comment was meant in earnest, but Rin could feel a weight setting in his stomach; so they'd all known, before Rin ever did.

_…Well, that's just fucking great._

"It can certainly seem selfish," Rei went on, oblivious to the landmine he had stepped into simply by being honest, "But I don't think what Haruka-senpai did was out of any ill intent."

In all fairness, Rin wasn't sure if Haruka's most recent stupidity was worth getting Rei and Nagisa involved; it was embarrassing enough, having to call Makoto every two days like a walking dictionary labeled _Japanese-Haruka-Japanese_. After what had happened with Haruka's injury, Rin had sworn he would learn to take deal with the rougher parts of this stupid relationship on his own, but right now it didn't seem like he had much choice.

Besides, as bizarre as it sometimes seemed, the kids at Iwatobi were _his_ friends too.

"I just don't get why he wouldn't tell me," Rin finally muttered, glancing away.

"...I suppose it's because he's not used to it," Rei said, a thoughtful hand touching his chin as he processed the multitude of answers, like going through a game of odds, "Haruka-senpai and Makoto-senpai spend all their time together, so there's rarely a need to tell him anything. It's different with you, though; sharing things takes active effort, so I'm sure most of the time he just forgets."

"Tokyo is a pretty big thing to forget," Rin countered, tugging at a lemon-coloured napkin; even if what Rei said was true, Haruka had sidelined him on a subject that directly pertained to his future. How was Rin _not_ meant to take that as a vote of no confidence?

"...Well," Nagisa began, scrunching his brow, "Haru-chan has always liked doing things his own way. But it’s just because he’s never been good with restrictions and rules.”

Rin's fingers on the napkin came to a halt; like a kindling of a memory, he could suddenly feel something hanging at the back of his mind, at the tip of his tongue.

“…Is that what I am to him?”

(A spark of recognition, connecting something in the dark––)

“A restriction?”

The seriousness of his question seemed to briefly catch both Nagisa and Rei off guard. Exchanging quick looks of unmistakable concern, it was Nagisa who finally took a deep breath and reached out across the table like a slouching Rilakkuma-bear.

"Rin-chan," he said, and there was nothing feigned in his tone. "...Just because Haru-chan doesn't like being tied down, doesn't mean he doesn't like _you_."

It tugged on a small smile, one not even Rin's restlessness could will down. It wasn’t that he didn't want to believe Nagisa; no, he _did_ believe Nagisa, because after last weekend there was no amount of self-deprecation that could have made him able to deflect what Haruka felt. But it was times like this that all of it made him feel hysterical anyway, because if that's really all it came down to, if it simply was a question of who liked who, then why––

_Why would he ask you about your future_

_only to forget to include you in his own?_

As the final piece of the puzzle materialized in his head, the lurch in Rin’s stomach drained the smile off his face.

"...What if he never meant to tell me at all?"

"Huh?" Nagisa replied on cue, for once at loss for words; his obvious confusion at what Rin was referring to might have been a source of comfort, had that eerie puzzle piece also not fit as well as it did.

"I mean," Rin began, trying to shape the uncomfortable image into words before it slipped from his grasp again, “…He knows we’re both going pro after graduation, right? If he–– if Haru left for Tokyo to talk about his future without me, is that his way of saying––”

_Don’t say it don’t say it why would you say it why would you risk someone confirming it’s true––_

But he had to follow it through.

“––That he would rather do it alone?”

Once more, Rei and Nagisa exchanged glances; this time, the wordless conversation that passed between them was far more hesitant than Rin would have liked.

 "...Rin-san,” Rei finally sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to be honest with you. No, Haruka-senpai doesn’t deal well with anything that gets in the way of his swimming. And yes,” Rei's voice took on a bittersweet edge, “It can feel terrible to realize you might only be another burden, weighing him down.”

Rei paused, but as he went on, also held Rin’s gaze with a gentleness and reassurance that Rin didn’t remember he’d ever done anything to actually deserve. “But Haruka-senpai said he wants to be with you, right? …You know he never would have told you that, if it didn't also mean he intended the two of you to share a future.”

Nagisa’s eyes lit up, and he echoed Rei with an enthusiastic nod. After all, there _was_ an indisputable truth to Rei’s logic; Haruka was the last person to ever commit to anything unless it was something he definitely wanted to do. Out of everyone in the world, Rin should have known this – and for that fresh air of solace, Rin could sense his lungs working up a breath of relief.

Then it came to an abrupt halt.

There had been a time when Rei's words were the only thing capable of calming Rin down in this entire world, a time when his mere presence had helped veer the course of his path back on track; but in that little café amidst the lemon curd wallpapers and sugary fumes, there was something Rei had just said – something so unintentionally revealing, that Rin knew he would never be able to take it back.

He looked up, and saw the expectant faces before him bursting with conviction; saw the faith that Rin wanted so badly to join in on, to think only of the _yes_ 's instead of a single _no_. But for each unabashed grin from Nagisa, for every confident tilt of Rei's head, Rin suddenly couldn't remember, remember, remember;

(a lifetime ago on Haruka's front yard, by the pool in Samezuka, in his grandmother's house, by the lookout, at the dorms, in Haruka's room)

"That's," Rin began, and the sweetness of the café made it harder to breathe, because he realized he didn't _know_ ;

_if he ever actually told you he wanted to share a life together_

_or was that only you?_

 

Nagisa did finish his dessert, eventually.

Afterwards, he insisted all three of them get purikura together, in one of those cramped up machines that combined both camera and controls. Almost as if in an attempt to get back at Nagisa’s unsolicited gift, Rin decorated the lower half of each photo with English so incomprehensible and complex Nagisa would never be able to understand.

(He knew the others must have noticed something off about his half-hearted commitment to revenge, yet Nagisa only countered his reluctance with an upbeat smile. Secretly, Rin was thankful for this; staring at the pictures on the train a couple of hours later, part of him wanted to go back into that moment, where his only worry in the world was trying to stop Nagisa from sticking a peace sign into his eye.)

“Did you have fun, Rin-senpai?” Nitori asked upon his return, and when returning the greeting with an absent-minded _yeah_ , Rin also realized it wasn’t entirely a lie.

Still, his phone remained silent for the rest of Saturday.

In a sense, this relieved as much as it disappointed Rin. Had Haruka called him right now, the sheer insecurity that latched itself into Rin's bones might have said something desperate and heated, digging this argument into an even deeper hole.

Over the years, there were a lot of things Rin had grown to question in life – what the schoolbooks said, what the papers said, even what his gut reaction convinced him was true on an impulsive whim. But the one thing he had never once questioned was Nanase Haruka's future, because it would have been easier to strip him of air before you could ever drain his desire to swim.

It wasn’t this Rin had any trouble trying to grasp.

Of course Haruka would one day go pro.

(Of course he’d–– _have to_ , because to find a world where he could keep swimming forever, there was only one realistic path to enter it through.)

_but what right did you ever selfishly have_

_to think he would also want to enter that world with you?_

He'd... never actually stopped to question this either, because it hadn't felt like there was anything to doubt; they might be on different teams now, but if Haruka ever left this little town, Rin had always assumed it would be with him. But like a disjointed mind map, Nagisa's _restrictions_ and Rei's _burden_ hovering around what Rin had underlined as _a dream of the future_ , and as much as he hated to admit it, all these lines could not help but connect.

He'd stare at his homework, stare at his calculator, stare at Nitori, stare at the wall.

_(because it was always you, who wanted a team_

_but it was him, who wanted to be free)_

Rin felt weary, he felt nauseous, he felt light.

Briefly, the empty morning hours left him entertaining the thought of calling Makoto, but he shrugged off such a blatant escape. Makoto had done so much – _too much_ – for the two of them already; he couldn’t run over every time he and Haruka had a fight, and hope that somehow, Makoto’s faith could save Rin from having to confront the things he feared the most.

Which was why, really, he found himself back in Iwatobi on late Sunday afternoon.

Nagisa and Rei had told him Haruka would probably be back before nightfall, but the restless pacing back and forth drove him out of the dorm before Nitori did. One of these days Rin might suffer actual repercussions for taking so many liberties with their curfew, but it was a worry he’d save for a time when the end didn’t feel like justifying the means.

He nearly found himself regretting this choice out of sheer frustration, though, the moment he got to Haruka's house and realized nobody was home.

It wasn’t a frustration strong enough to send him back to the train station, but one that finally stripped all self-consciousness from his spine; this whole weekend might have been a display of warring nerves, but there was nothing Haruka was as skilled at as completely demolishing Rin’s pride.

Once more, Haruka picked up after the first ring.

"Where the hell are you?!" Rin snapped, a twinge of concern evident underneath his anger; it wasn't until the line clicked and connected that he also understood how _worried_ he'd been all weekend, and it made Rin feel ashamed for how stubbornly he had allowed his spite to get in the way of making sure Haruka was alright.

There was a brief rustle before Haruka answered the question; when he spoke, the response was quite possibly the last thing Rin had expected to hear.

"I'm at Samezuka."

Rin paused, drawing a blank.

“Same–– WHAT?!"

"I got back two hours ago,” Haruka explained matter-of-factly, as though no argument had ever taken place at all. “But I wanted to see you first."

“So you went to _Samezuka_?!"

It made no sense, so of course in Haruka-land, it made perfect sense.

"Yes. Me and Nitori played Mario Kart. He blue-shelled me twice."

"That's–– Haru.” Rin felt like his entire face was scrunching up. “I’m at your fucking _house_."

"Oh."

" _Right now_."

"Oh."

"Don't just–– Stop _oh_ 'ing me and get over here before I call the security on your ass."

A brief silence later, a muffled sound came through the receiver where Haruka leaned away from the phone to ask Nitori something. The line rattled again when he shifted back, a dead-pan agreement to his tone. “Alright. Nitori says we can play Rainbow Road some other time.”

The air that hissed through Rin’s teeth only met silence at the end of the line, but he couldn't deny the lightness in his shoulders that nonetheless followed the exhale.

To Haruka's credit, it took him roughly an hour for a journey that, on some days, demanded Rin twice as long. It both did and did not feel like a lifetime; on one hand, Rin thought himself nothing short of an idiot sitting at Haruka's doorstep, but on the other, it gave him the chance to process the implications of what Haruka had said.

(To accept a solemn kind of hope, welling up over the undeniable honesty in Haruka's voice;

_But I wanted to see you.)_

"Hey."

He gave a start, hearing that voice again, and lifted his head.

Across the walkway, the shadows at Haruka's feet were long and thin, throwing a shade of worn-out hesitancy on his face. It made him look... tired, but not for any lack of sleep; and somehow, without needing a single mirror, Rin was dead certain of the same weariness was paralleled in his gaze.

"Hey," Rin said, pushing back to his feet; he swore he meant to follow it up with a hundred of things, starting with _You're such a monumental idiot_ and ending with _I'm sorry, anyway_ , but as soon as Haruka closed the distance between them, his treacherous mind single-handedly discarded each rehearsed line.

“You freaking _ran_ ,” he laughed against Haruka’s lips half a second later, unable to feel the thud of his head against the door; it came out a lot like relief, like a desperate hope Rin didn’t realize he’d been holding back, amplified by the disgruntled noise at the back of Haruka’s throat where he struggled to undo the lock.

“Whatever,” Haruka muttered, not even bothering to come up with an excuse to complete the reverse ritual; the door that slid out from beneath Rin almost sent him sprawling across the genkan, cutting his triumph short.

Of course, the reflex that ground his balance was as intuitive as the one that buried his hands in Haruka's hair. In response, Haruka shoved him up the wall of the hallway, and Rin could have sworn the old house trembled with his haste; or perhaps it was him, and his heart in his ears, with Haruka sucking down his tongue and fumbling to unfasten his belt, with an urgency rivaled only by Rin's own.

Strictly speaking, perhaps this was not how it was supposed to go.

At the back of Rin’s mind, he knew the two of them should have sat down instead, to talk about all the (uncertainty) (insecurity) (miscommunication) that had left the past couple of days in complete disarray. They'd walked down this road enough times to know the dangers of silence, to foretell burying each warning sign under a layer of need;

but how could he?

(Because there was still nothing in the world capable of reassuring him, like the brazen hands that laced over his hips; no words that could ease his doubts like the stark neediness of a kiss delayed by distance and pride; no _we should talk about this_ or _there’s something I have to ask you_ to overrule the cacophony in Rin’s head, when Haruka’s breath traced his neck in a single whisper––

_I_

_really missed you,_

_Rin)_

They never made it all the way upstairs.

 

 

 

“…You’re not supposed to be here.”

Perhaps, it was these words muttered into the languid bath water a dusk later that made Rin feel like something about the past two weeks had come full circle.

Reaching out his hand, he watched the droplets splash against his skin, burrowing the back of his head deeper into the groove of Haruka’s shoulder; in the dim light of the bathroom, each muscle looked lean and firm like all the years Rin had dedicated to crafting his fate.

“And yet,” he said, a state of unusual calm surrounding his mind like the heat of the water surrounded his body, “Where else would I be?”

The silence that held Haruka's voice did not feel stifling, so much as it simply anticipated his response. Leaning over, Rin felt the brush of his wet hair, and when Haruka's lips moved again, they grazed the groove of Rin’s neck like a feathery kiss.

“…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Whether or not he had ever truly dared hope for an apology, Rin felt his eyes widen in surprise. The sheer directness of Haruka's confession made him want to turn around, but the vulnerability of his tone also held Rin still; in the waver of the tiniest syllable, he could sense so many things that still needed time to take hold and sink in.

(But he’d wait for Haruka, for as long as it would take, because Haruka had spent four years waiting for him.)

“…I’m sorry I overreacted,” he muttered instead, shifting his arm to touch Haruka’s collar bone, “I know I should have–– well, it doesn’t matter, okay? I... should have been supportive either way.”

_should learn how to support him, regardless of what he comes to choose_

Rin hesitated.

“I just…”

_(even if what he chooses, isn’t you)_

He felt the corners of his mouth tug, but the smile did not feel like his own.

“…How did your trip go, anyway?”

As likely as the topic was to eventually surface, Haruka clearly hadn't prepared himself to answer. Lifting his chin, his head broke contact with Rin’s arm; this time Rin couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, to catch a flash of unreadable guardedness passing Haruka’s face.

“...I’m..." Haruka trailed off for a moment, then lowered his gaze. "I knew there wasn't much point to go. I'm not sure they really understood what I said."

For all its honesty, the vagueness of Haruka's response could have easily roused the part of Rin that still harbored animosity over everything Haruka repeatedly cut off and concealed. Still, as Haruka's eyes trailed off and an air of regret filled in for the rest of his sentence, Rin also realized that what he felt wasn’t… grudge.

(No,

because watching the shadows trickle and dance in the worn out corners of the wall, feeling Haruka's heart beating a little faster beneath his hand, what Rin felt was not disappointment, nor an ounce of defeat;

only a comfort in Haruka's misfortune, and a undeniable, selfish _relief_ at whichever opportunities might have slipped from Haruka's reach.)

_because no matter what you say or think or hope or do_

_you already know what you **want** him to choose_

...How long could a person go on, anyway, pretending not to understand that which hurts them the most?

"...Hey, Haru."

(Maybe, part of him would always remain this way, so resigned to being weak. Maybe, words like _honesty_ would always be as connected to altruism, as they were also synonymous with a _plea_. Maybe there was simply no way to ever tell the difference; because with love comes loss and with loss comes fear, and it was impossible, absolutely impossible for Rin to stop how all of this made him feel––)

“…You’re serious about us, right?”

( _but I still need you_

_to share that world with me)_

Haruka's shoulders twitched in surprise at the unexpected question, yet the bewilderment in his expression quickly dissolved into open concern. A splash of water accompanied Haruka's touch when his fingers touched Rin’s face, resounding with the burning in Rin's throat.

“…Are you crying?”

Rin swallowed, only a will of iron holding back the urge to yank his head away.

“No,” he replied, mustering his everything into steadying his voice. “Are you stupid? It’s just–– it’s just the water.”

A light frown knit Haruka's brow together. As he drew up his knees, Rin felt their bodies nuzzle together more firmly, holding him back from pulling away; on instinct, he closed his eyes when Haruka's head leaned in, the tiniest lick of his tongue on Rin's cheek.

“Liar,” Haruka muttered, lightly dragging his fingers over Rin's shoulders until they came to rest on his neck.

When Rin glanced up, he was surprised to find something tense on Haruka's face, like an unexpected conflict holding his tongue; he could feel Haruka's chest rise as he drew in a deep breath, and that sudden need for courage made Rin regret his question at once.

_Don’t ask never ask why did you ask why would you risk him confirming your fears are true––_

"...Rin," Haruka began, a strange caution stalling his response, and with every syllable Rin could feel a paralysis working its way up his neck, "About Tokyo..."

"It's fine," Rin cut him off, a sharpness in his voice that made Haruka flinch; wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, Rin tried to muster up a softer tone. "...I mean, you don't have to explain why you went. It's not like you need to tell me everything."

 _Because this time, I'm not sure I want to know_ , he wanted to add, but didn't expect the almost pained resignation that flashed in Haruka's gaze.

When Haruka's fingers closed around his wrist, it was Rin who flinched.

"...Rin."

Why the words that followed sounded so awfully fragile, Rin might never know; it was something Haruka had told him a hundred times over in the past few months, sometimes in annoyance, sometimes in frustration, sometimes with a legitimate smile. But when Haruka leaned in to breathe out,

"...I want to keep swimming with you, Rin,"

it felt like a different kind of confession; something far more private and pained, joined by a shake of his head.

"...I don't want anything about us to change."

...Looking back, there had always been a lot of things Haruka said that only seemed to make sense in his head; their staggering ability to misunderstand one another probably should have prompted the sensible side of Rin to ask Haruka to elaborate on cue. Yet when the hand on his wrist slid up to his arm, when Haruka's teeth tentatively tugged at Rin's lips, an equally strong side of Rin didn't necessarily _want_ to care.

"We're not gonna change," he heard himself whisper, and knew at once that it was an unavoidable lie.

(But what he also understood was that it was a necessary one, meant for Haruka's solace as much as his own; when Haruka tilted his head back to allow Rin to kiss him harder, he'd drown the guilt, drown the dishonesty, and silence all the voices in his head asking what it meant that they had to pretend at all.)

Because we can't choose our weaknesses, the gaps we purposefully brush over, or the glimpses of relief we cling to in order to wake up hopeful every day; and it wasn't that Rin didn't understand this, it wasn't that he didn't regret this, but at hardly seventeen with a barely mended heart in his hands, what was he supposed to say?

_waiting waiting always waiting_

_for the moment of rejection, once the day is through_

But just because we can't always control our weaknesses, doesn't mean we can't control whether or not we give up on hope for good.

“…Hey, Haru. Could we go somewhere together, on the weekend before Makoto’s birthday?”

_(so how about you finally give him a reason_

_to make sure he chooses you)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But life is not a game of pokemon.
> 
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: ...Wasn't there a time I wrote about onsens already? No, you must be imagining things.
> 
> (p.s. if you're still confused what Nagisa bought for Rin, [here's a clue](http://i.imgur.com/lZ80y8k.jpg).)  
> (p.p.s. trusted sources say they're pink.)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week? It's more likely than you think.
> 
> Please also note this chapter is rated E.
> 
> (For those of you still reading this drivel, thank you so much.)

 

 

 

_She was still the most beautiful woman in the world._

_When she chuckled, the little bracelet on her wrist jingled; when she brushed a hand through her hair, it gleamed dark like liquid silk. When she reached out across the table and brushed the back of his hand, her touch was soft and reassuring, and he hated how calm it made him feel._

_“I’m so glad you decided to come.”_

_How long had it been since he had last seen his mother?_

_Before the Summer, perhaps – on a trip that sent his parents to the nearby region, or a quick visit home. He preferred meeting them elsewhere, though, because no scent or trail ever hung to the walls after they left, leaving him wondering whether he’d simply imagined it all._

_“Your father and I… ah, sorry, how informal does that sound! I’ve been talking to higher ups for so long, I can’t seem to drop the habit even with my own son.”_

_She let out another laugh, thumb dragging across his hand in a gesture of well-intended comfort; there was a truth to what she said, but one she was smart enough to regard with a light blush._

_He allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch, although he wasn’t sure if it was exactly a smile._

_“So, we were thinking… I know you’re still in your second year, but your accident scare made us realize we haven’t really talked about what happens after high school. Time passes–– so quickly, and before long it’s your graduation… Next year will be important in many ways, so your father and I… sorry, I mean your dad and I thought it might be best if we came back home after the Summer, to help you prepare with whatever it is that you choose.”_

_“It’s alright,” he replied on reflex. “I don’t really need you to.”_

_He could sense a stir in her brow, one that smoothed out almost as quickly as it came._

_“…Haru. I know you’re used to doing everything on your own, but I really feel…”_

_She trailed off, as though suddenly remembering something, and rubbed at his hand anew. “I know it won’t make up for how much your dad and I had to be away while your grandmother’s health was getting worse, or how much we’ve had to be away since, but this is important. Your future is important.”_

_You mean my career is important, he wanted to say, but it wouldn’t have come out right; his mother never would have understood his disdain. In her world, ‘career’ meant something reserved for white-collars slaving away 18 hours a day, while his father and her – they were the lucky ones, living life from project to project, never bound by a single rule._

_But wasn’t that what he had always wanted, too?_

_“There’s… I know this is all very early,” she went on, unfazed by his lack of response, “But have you given any thought at all to what you might want to do?”_

_He turned his eyes away._

Shifting off the side of the road, the swerving bus sent a cloud of fumes at his feet. Coughing lightly, Haruka listened to the growling engine receding in the distance, weary like the noon; when he turned around, he found Rin staring up the side of the hill.

“Okay,” Rin said, pensively, “This looked a lot less steep on Google Maps.”

Catching up, Haruka tilted his chin for a better view. The trail wasn’t necessarily as demanding as Rin insisted, but it was _old_ ; years of wildlife had eroded away at parts of the path that lay ahead, making it far rougher to tread than it might have once been.

“Well, it can’t be helped,” Rin sighed, and reached out his hand for Haruka to grab. “Come on, we’ve got a mountain to climb.”

For the weekend before Makoto’s birthday, what they’d decided on was to visit the hot springs a couple of hours’ drive away. From what Haruka could tell, Rin had had to plead to every single logical argument for Mikoshiba to let him skip Sunday’s practice, which shouldn’t have made Haruka feel as envious as it did – the maintenance signs had already been hung up by their own pool, a sure sign of Winter looming ahead.

Still, it was hard to hold a grudge over Rin's pool privileges when Haruka let his eyes wander past the trees of red and gold. The prime season for Autumn leaves might have already passed, but this year the nature was still full in bloom mid-November. Having spent his whole life in a town by the coast, it was easy for Haruka to sometimes forget how beautiful the woods further inland could be.

“God, I swear,” Rin muttered ahead, cutting his haiku-level appreciation short, “One of these days I’m gonna take you somewhere that you can travel to on a goddamn plane.”

“I thought you were supposed to be in perfect shape,” Haruka countered, pulling on the straps that fastened his backpack; glancing over his shoulder, Rin narrowed his eyes.

“It's called gravity, Nanase. Look it up.”

The moroseness of his tone was meant to shut Haruka up, but all it did was send a wave of something familiar and comforting down the hill.

(As it washed over Haruka, so full of spirit, so full of _Rin_ , he felt a little smile worming its way onto his lips.)

 

 

 

 

 _"Do you still draw?"_

_The level crossing on the other side of the street had gone from red light to green light to red again for a total of thirty-seven times._

_He shrugged._

_"Sometimes."_

_"I hope you don't give it up," his mother said encouragingly, cupping her tea with both hands, "You were always so talented. If you ever couldn't swim anymore, don't you think you could also become an artist?"_

_He didn't mean to grit his teeth together, but his muscles worked against him. "...I won't stop swimming."_

_"Oh, Haru, that's not what I––" she shook her head, and he hated the tender, apologetic look on her face, "Of course you'll swim, for as long as you want to! But if anything happened that made you have to choose, like a real injury? Then you–– well, all I'm saying is you're skilled in more ways than one."_

_You're really good._

_It was what Rin had told him, too, once upon a time; the memory the words intertwined with his mother's hopeful smile, and for whatever reason, made his heart hurt._

_"It doesn't matter," he muttered, leaning his chin into the palm of his hand._

 

 

 

  

The hot springs they were staying at was located halfway up the mountain. Although it wasn't a very fancy resort, Haruka suspected Rin had asked his mother to help out with the cost. At the very least he'd refused to let Haruka pay for any of it, on something Rin called _principle_ ; what the reality of this principle was outside of Rin's stubborn mind, well, for once it seemed like something Haruka didn't exactly feel like arguing over.

Because he could tell it also made Rin _happy_ ;

(to glance over at Haruka when he stated their names, to smile a private smile into the signature he wrote down; to drag Haruka's bag across the hall, a _come on, you're clearly too weak to carry that yourself_ preceding him like an over-exaggerated sigh.)

"There's apparently a small shrine further up," Rin explained once they were done checking in, "It's still early, so we could go."

Haruka couldn't help the small, disgruntled sound in his throat.

At this, Rin clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "They're _not_ letting you in the baths yet, dumbass."

"Fine," Haruka muttered, willing his disappointment down, but there was a strange fondness to how Rin ushered him out.

It was a disappointment Haruka was surprised to learn didn't last long, though. While the route up to the shrine was twice as serpentine, treading through it together was strangely ...therapeutic, too; the rustling of the trees mixed with snapping twigs, the firmness of Rin pulling him along by the hand – it all came to him with an air of earthiness that reminded him of tranquility, remind him of Makoto, reminded him of home.

Whether Rin had realized it or not, his invitation for a trip out of Iwatobi could not have come at a better time. Since Haruka's return from Tokyo, they had taken to replacing many of their nightly messages with actual phone calls, but it still didn't feel enough; what the past couple of weeks had left Haruka missing was, well, _this_ – just being able to rest in Rin's company, to let down his guard, and _breathe_.

In spite of himself, Haruka closed his eyes.

"H, hey, watch out––"

The warning came at the exact moment Haruka's foot snagged on a curving branch on the ground. Caught off balance, what broke his stumble was Rin yanking him back by the arm; instead of tending to scraped knees, Haruka quickly found himself pressed up against Rin's chest.

"How can you be so effortless in water," Rin grumbled, trying to conceal his temporary scare into a groan, "And so absolutely useless on land?"

"...Good thing I have you to help me out, then," Haruka countered, eyes flicking up, "Who knows, I could have broken my foot."

The retort initially wrinkled Rin's brow in confusion, but the next moment broke his face into a laugh.

"Shut up," he jabbed an elbow into Haruka's side, recognizing the taunt for the sarcastic joke it was; Rin's ability to laugh at their former argument rewarded Haruka's gamble with a fluttery relief in his chest.

(He felt Rin's hand slide back into his own, and the path that led them all the way to the shrine suddenly did not feel quite as serpentine anymore.)

The shrine itself, resting on top of stone steps sprouting from beneath the undergrowth, was not very large. While it must not have seen much traffic other than the patrons of the ryokan, it was clear someone kept tending to it regularly: even this deep in the forest, the growth had been trimmed to leave the purification fountain in peace.

The sound of running water broke the silence Haruka hadn't realized he had been listening for.

"What was your prayer?"

Amidst the rustling of the trees, Rin's voice sounded light. As he sat down besides Haruka on the stone steps, Haruka craned his head forward, and the road down looked a lot longer than he remembered the two of them having walked.

"I'm not telling you," Haruka eyed at him, but found himself unable to muster up the usual suspicion at Rin's nosiness; leaning back on his arms, a calmness held Rin's expression as he stared at the sky instead.

"Well, I wished for fortitude."

The smile that followed Rin's statement was not the most radiant Haruka had ever seen, yet it stretched genuine across his face.

"You know?" he went on, lacing his fingers with Haruka's own.

"For the future."

 

 

 

 

_"Does that mean you'd like to go professional?"_

_He felt a twitch in his shoulders, like a jolt of electricity from a future yet to happen; when he turned his head, his mother's gaze was unreadable but calm._

_His hands came to rest on the table._

_"I haven't really thought about it," he said, and it was the most honest answer he had given her since the moment they entered the tea house today; from the sharpness in her eyes, she could probably tell._

_Pushing the cup from her fingers, her sigh still came out gentle. "If swimming is all you want to do in life, then it would make the most sense. You wouldn't have to spend years in some substitute job, one you were lucky enough to allow enough free time to swim."_

_She paused, and a light concern furrowed her brow._

_"...But is competitive swimming really the kind of world you see yourself capable of living in?"_

_He returned the look, unable to decided whether to feel alarmed by her tone._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"...It's a lot of work," his mother replied, as though the delicate dance between supportive and realistic was not one she quite knew yet how to tackle. "And a lot of responsibility. And I know you can be hard-working, and I know you can be responsible, but..."_

_The audacity and accuracy of her nerve made his fingers curl up against his palms, barely short of a fist._

_When he spoke, it was all he could do to hold back the sudden spite at the concerned affection in her voice._

_"...But I'm not capable of committing to anything other than me?"_

_She eyed back at him, but what countered him was not the naïve surprise he had feared; instead, she cast him a piercing, knowledgeable stare._

_"No, Haru, I meant... because you might not commit yourself to you."_

 

 

 

"Alright, I'm about done here, are you–– _Holy shit_."

Haruka frowned.

"What?"

Two, three blinks and Rin shook his head in haste; the hand that reached up to brush aside the strands of red hair hanging loose from his ponytail seemed awfully fidgety, for such a small gesture.

"N, nothing," he muttered, "I just. I don't–– I'm not sure when was the last time I saw you wearing one of those."

Haruka glanced down. To him, the dark blue cotton yukata did not appear out of the ordinary; the few times he had stayed at ryokans with his parents, they'd always been handed one. The ones Rei and Nagisa wore for festivals were a lot more intricate in design, so he wasn't sure what had left Rin so flustered.

"It's just a regular kind of–– Wait, Rin, what are you doing?" he began, only to get cut off by Rin suddenly rummaging through the bag he had set against the wall.

"I'm documenting this," Rin replied, lifting up his phone, "Hold still for a sec."

" _Rin_." Haruka's warning came with a patience suddenly stretched very thin; Rin's embarrassing audacity made him take a step forward on reflex. "You're not taking a picture."

"What the hell? Of course I'm taking a picture," Rin argued, pushing up a hand between the two of them before Haruka got any closer, "The one time you wear something other than that ridiculous Loosejaw-kun t-shirt, there's no way I'm not gonna––"

"Why?" Dodging Rin's arm, Haruka tried to swerve for the phone. "So you can talk to it at night?"

"That's–– what I do with the contents of my phone is none of your––"

"It most definitely is my––"

"Shit Haru if you break it I swear I'll break your––"

From the yelp that left Rin, it sounded a lot like what he came close to breaking was his own tailbone. Caught in the folds of his yukata, Haruka stumbled right over him onto the floor, his knee dodging Rin's groin with only inches to spare.

As soon as he managed to re-inflate his flattened lungs, Rin's follow-up came out like a grimace.

"...What did I tell you," he grumbled, although notably abstained from actually pushing Haruka off himself. "...Completely useless on land."

(It was too easy, too obvious, and Rin had walked right into that one for Haruka to resist the dare.)

"...Are you sure?" he breathed out, the tip of his lips hovering right above the top of Rin's mouth; in the awkward tumble, Rin's yukata had slipped halfway down his left shoulder, and Haruka felt the muscles flex lightly when he leaned closer.

The line of direction Rin's eyes flicked at gave away his gut reaction, but in the next second a firm knee wrestled Haruka out of the way.

"Oh no you don't," he stated firmly, pushing back up and smoothing over the wrinkles in his yukata, "That's _not_ how it works. You wouldn't let me have a photo, so you don't get to–– you can't have your pool, and swim in it too!"

Haruka blinked.

"What?"

"Shit, that's–– it works better in English, okay?" Rin waved him off before he reached out to yank Haruka off the ground. "Look, I thought you were dying to go to the baths. Come on, or you'll end up fighting for the best spots with geezers who're even grumpier than your face."

"But why would I want a pool I can't swim in?" Haruka still insisted, but even his perplexed state did not stop Rin from dragging him along.

In all fairness, Rin wasn't entirely wrong. Although the resort was hardly bustling with tourists, an outdoor bath was bound to draw visitors from the nearby towns. A few looked like regulars, with dedicated washing rituals nearly mesmerizing to witness; yet not long from the moment they entered the premises, Haruka felt the _ping_ of something completely unrelated about to engage the radar at the back of his mind.

It was a tiny signal at first.

An accidental brush of Rin's arm on his while undressing, and the brief yet completely needless _sorry_ that followed; a designated calm to how Rin skipped past the soap and foam, a sense of purpose to each step that crossed the floor. A sideway glance, a quick breath, and when absolutely no-one must have been looking, an unnoticeable flutter of fingertips on Haruka's side.

And it could have been a complete coincidence;

except that once Haruka's limbs soaked up the warmth of the water and he felt a delicate touch at the nape of his neck, there was absolutely no way he could have misunderstood.

"....You're doing that on purpose."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rin shrugged, leaning his arm over the side of the bath as if simply stretching out to recline; the fingers on Haruka's skin skipped lightly in an erratic pattern, tickling at the roots of his hair.

Once more, there was a warning in Haruka's voice. " _Rin._ "

There were a handful of other patrons present, scattered across the baths and lost in a world of their own. Still, the low-key gesture felt almost brazen, coming in public from someone like Rin – not least of all because the past months had left both of them more than aware of the sensitivity of Haruka's neck.

"It's too bad I don't have anything else to distract myself with," Rin said, but when he turned his head and shot Haruka a barely-concealed grin, it bore the slightest hint of smugness. "...Say, like a picture."

Haruka narrowed his eyes.

"...That's blackmail," he muttered, instinctively pulling up his knees; it was definitely a challenge, trying to deflect Rin without also giving away how easily this could go from curious to compromised. Still, that naïve pride probably hadn't stopped to consider that Rin never would have taken the risk in the first place, had he also not _known_ how effective his chosen form of revenge could get.

There was a ripple in the water, where Rin leaned in and his lips almost touched Haruka's ear.

"You're wrong," came the low whisper, and when Rin's fingertips massaged into the base of Haruka's spine, Haruka couldn't help the arch of his back.

"...Because that would mean there's only one person who can win that bet."

 

 

 

 

_The bed in his hotel room looked like the one back home, but when he sat down, the mattress did not shift beneath his weight. He turned on the lamp, and the shadows cleared with unnerving ease; six stores down, the sounds of traffic mingled together like a muffled cry._

_It was too silent._

_Everything was too silent._

_All throughout the day, his phone had made a sound only twice: two sets of splashing water, the first to ask him if he'd arrived yet, the second encouraging him to have fun. It was a message tone he'd specifically set to remind him of home, but in the hours he spent wading through Tokyo with his mother, also not one he had secretly been hoping to hear._

_But even in the light of the neon digits spelling 01:12, the sound of that little wind chime never cut the air._

_It made him think of countless of other hotel rooms, the hum of distant cities, in countries on the other side of the world;_

_(if it would always be like this_

_if he could learn to live like this_

_if the silence would always hang this low)_

_But you knew that, though._

_It was what Rin had told him, on a bed that did yield beneath their weight, in a room where the shadows clung to each tile of the ceiling like soot; and the memory of the words intertwined with that of his artificial smile, but it didn't make his heart hurt anymore._

_It didn't make him feel anything at all._

 

 

 

 

He must have gone crazy.

No, that–– that part had come and gone years ago, because there was no other explanation to why he had ever welcomed someone like Matsuoka Rin into his life. Even so, a tiny, shrieking voice at the back of his head could _not_ _believe you are willingly getting out of a hot spring before they kick you out_ , as if something, anything, could be more worthy of his time.

But then, it had always been difficult,

(knowing where the water ended, and where Rin began)

so when the door closed behind them, when the synchronized struggle to discard slippers sent them stumbling into the room, it all felt like one fluid movement that continued from the brush of Rin's fingertips, to cupping the sides of Haruka's face in his hands.

It was hard to say if it was an urgency prompted by how little time they always had to share. Rin probably hated that lack of physical proximity more than Haruka did, although on moments like this it would have been impossible to tell: in some ways, being together was much harder, because the rush of neediness only ever reminded Haruka how helplessly part of him kept stifling it away.

Yet for all its troublesome vulnerability, it was this very instinct that also helped brace the impact once Rin toppled over Haruka onto the ground. Sparing a quick thought of gratitude to whichever member of the staff had laid out futons in their absence, Haruka wondered if Rin had even noticed – his gestures came with unexpected directness, as though his wager at the hot springs had instilled Rin with an unusually bold nerve.

Perhaps, then, his words should not have come as any sort of surprise.

Because when Rin broke their tongues apart and his arm disentangled from the folds of Haruka's yukata, the depth in his eyes was committed as it was impatient; it didn't mean he could escape the light embarrassment of putting a voice to his thoughts, but the sentiment nonetheless rang sincere.

"I'm... this time around, there's something _I_ just wanted to do."

It took everything for Haruka's breath not to turn into a cough.

As much as Rin sometimes berated Haruka for being slow on the up-take, the memory hidden in Rin's voice was not one he could forget. After all, Rin's flushed face on that morning in his kitchen still danced around in his dreams –and sometimes outside of them, too– like vivid proof of Rin's ability to repeatedly discover new ways of destroying Haruka's sanity.

(A more glaring survival instinct would have parsed this connection together, but it was hard to value his mental health, when the hopefulness in Rin's eyes was as much of a turn-on as the bluntness of his request. Because he may have been inexperienced, too, but what had always meant so much more was the spirit to overcome those insecurities, as though all of this was something he genuinely _wanted_.)

_something he can commit himself to_

_not just for your sake,_

_but for his own_

It was a jagged edge, like a sudden discord in Haruka's heart; yet it soon drowned into the softness of anticipation that swelled over him, from the fingers on his thighs, to the strand of hair Rin brushed behind his ear before closing his lips around Haruka's cock in a swift dip of his head.

It was a leap of energy that never left Rin, like an eagerness that helped carry him through that awkward stage between figuring out what he intended to do. But if anything, their previous experiences together had taught Rin that trial and error was not necessarily something to feel daunted by – as troublesome as it was to process the moment in quite as many words, the tongue that flicked, then dragged along his shaft did not stall even for the hiss that escaped between Haruka's teeth. Pushing his head back, he sensed rather than felt his fingers gripping the bedding, and only in failing to suppress his first actual moan did Rin come to a curious halt.

Craning his neck around, Haruka intuitively glanced down for the cause; the private, enraptured look he caught on Rin's face could have easily put the scene in Haruka's kitchen to shame.

"Why," Rin breathed out, and it was obvious at once he spoke out of sheer unreserved wonder, "Are you so ridiculously hot?"

"...Idiot," was all Haruka could utter in response, although what he meant was not to reprimand. Because what it should have come out as, had he possessed the ability to speak in full, was

_idiot,_

_you should see the way I see you_

"...Don't worry." Oblivious to the words hitched in Haruka's throat, a mischievous, yet nearly greedy grin twisted the side of Rin's mouth. "...I'm not going to need a picture."

 _Shut up shut up shut up shut up––_ Haruka wanted to scream on sheer overwhelmed frustration, but Rin's skills at mind-reading had always manifested on sporadic occasions; this time he lowered his head with less hesitation, with a keener mouth to take in the majority of Haruka's length.

If these walls were little more than paper, their neighbors would soon risk finding out. It wasn't so much the idea of getting too vocal that yanked Haruka back to reality, rather than what it might inevitably imply; while there was possibly nothing he could have spent the rest of his life staring at with such stupefied wonder than Rin's flushed face buried between his thighs, this unlikely, self-contended Rin was not an opportunity Haruka wanted to let go to waste.

"Rin, wait––" he gasped, and it took inhuman effort to wrestle to his trembling elbows and push Rin back by the shoulder. "I'm–– You––"

He took a deep breath, forcing a calmness into his voice before he addressed Rin anew.

"...Would you want to... try being on top for a change?"

Whatever reassurance Rin had gained from today's triumphs almost cracked at the surprise in his gaze. It wasn't–– shock, so much as a reset in a brain he had programmed to execute a specific line of code; it didn't take Rin long to work around this new information, but even so, Haruka knew to expect a grain of hesitation in his response.

"...Are you sure?" Rin said, unable to fight back the flush of his cheeks before he went on, "...Because I kind of like it when you do."

Haruka swallowed.

No-one, _no-one_ other than this infuriating boy could ever leave him so at odds with opposite, warring emotions. On one hand, Rin's confession probably would have made him hard in roughly two seconds flat, had that not already (and painfully) been the case; on the other, if Rin still thought Haruka had spoken on some concerned, moral obligation, then his admission was like a punch in the gut.

"No, I..."

Willing life back into his arms, Haruka pushed himself fully upright and cradled Rin's face in his hands, as though forcing him to confront the reality of his request with each clearly enunciated breath.

"I want. You. To do it."

With a hesitant pause, he added, ".... _Please_."

Rin blinked, then opened his mouth, only to quickly decide there was no response stronger than the vigor he channeled into yanking Haruka's lips open with his tongue; Haruka had dared hope for courage, even self-assurance in the way Rin pushed him back into the bedding, but he hadn't anticipated quite as much possessive _lust_.

But then, out of everyone, it was Haruka who should understand;

(the thrill of each gasp, down his chest and over his stomach, and the pull of a single sash coming undone on his waist; the sudden, hushed tones and sheepish laughter, the start of Rin's cold fingers, and a flurry of reassuring kisses into his hair;

and how all of this, all of it would feel completely inconsequential compared to the moment Rin came to realize what it felt like, to discover a whole new world of sensitive pressure, all at the touch of his hand.)

"...It's alright," Haruka muttered into his ear, "...I can help you through it."

Rin's eyes lit up, but Haruka quickly blocked his response with a frown that wasn't dubious in earnest. "...Well, assuming you still find me qualified enough."

The sardonic look on Rin's face more than rewarded the dead-pan joke. _Shut up_ , Rin might have snarled into Haruka's wrist, but the gesture also turned into a light kiss before he entwined their hands.

(Beneath his fingertips, Haruka could sense Rin's pulse instinctively hastening in pace; it could have felt ironic, had he also not lived through this exact moment in Rin's stead. Which was why it suddenly made so much more sense, too, that when he cautiously guided Rin's fingers inside of himself, it was Haruka's turn to bite down the whimper Rin could not.)

"Are y––" was as far as Rin got into the scripted lines before Haruka kissed the words down, a twitch in his thigh where it wrapped around Rin's own. For his lack of prior experience to being entered, Rin's fingers felt as unusual as Haruka had expected; once he firmly urged at Rin's hand to move, though, the initial discomfort soon came with a realization that helped weather it down:

_all you ever wanted was to feel what he feels_

_to make him feel, how he makes you feel_

_(and maybe, it might finally be...)_

He broke the kiss in a gasp, but the voices drifted off to the sound of Rin breathing in his ear.

"...Just, tell me if at any point I––" Rin started to say, conveying the level of concentration necessary to focus on Haruka's example; but Haruka silenced him with a quick shake of his head, then kissed his jaw.

"...It... doesn't hurt," he breathed; it might have been a half-lie, but the words that followed were not. "You're... not terrible."

Perhaps, he had bet his all on this disjointed encouragement, because there was only a glint of a relieved smile before Rin's gestures grew more deliberate and confident; Haruka was fairly certain he let out an unintentional moan out of sheer surprise when Rin pushed deeper into him, making it more and more difficult by the minute to resume reasonable thought.

(It didn't help, didn't help at all that Rin eventually decided to venture his other hand around Haruka's cock, as if curious to discover what would happen; the involuntary grunt was embarrassing enough without Rin's self-satisfied look, but at the very least Rin had the decency to hide it in Haruka's shoulder.)

It took longer for Haruka's muscles to relax than they had done with Rin; for once, though, Rin's nerves did not make him rush. Of course Haruka understood this, too; the patience behind his carefulness could have been a far greater source of discomfort, had Haruka not also known it had nothing to do with being liable – had nothing to do with being _vulnerable_ , because when Haruka nudged at Rin's neck and stilled his hand, the emotion on Rin's face was not first and foremost concern at all.

"Yeah?" Rin breathed out with barely concealed anticipation, and Haruka had to bite his own lip not to smile.

"Yeah."

For someone so prone to flying right into the deep end with foolish pride, there was unexpected compliance to how Rin allowed Haruka to help him by shifting their positions and lifting a leg around Rin's waist; and in that middle-ground between all the _before_ 's and the _after_ 's, Haruka couldn't help but wonder,

(if he'd stilled his breath as sharp as Rin did;

if his arms had trembled like Rin's did;

if he'd bitten Rin's neck with as much courage-gathering intensity, to steady him by the hips before Rin swallowed and pushed inside Haruka.)

Gripping Rin's arm, he knew to expect the inevitable wince, knew to prepare himself for the sensations of his muscles buckling against Rin; but what nobody had ever told him, what none of his countless minutes of studying each ache and pleasure on Rin's features had never taught Haruka, was the sudden, sharp spasm that came from somewhere within his _heart_ ––

( _it's_

 _still not enough_ )

When he gasped aloud, of course Rin mistook it for pain.

In an instant, the look on Rin's face went from overwhelmed to dread. And maybe, it was a kind of comfort to realize how quickly it helped Haruka's sudden unrest to dissolve at the edges, to diffuse the anxiety without a name; struggling back to his elbows, Haruka felt their bodies press firmer together (inside and outside and _every single crease of his overwhelmed mind_ ), as he reached out to push back some of the stubborn strands of hair on Rin's face.

"...I'm fine," he breathed out, and once more, it was only half a lie.

(Because when Rin smiled with relief, when the kiss Haruka left on his chin renewed his courage and helped Rin pick up a cautious pace, Haruka knew he could learn to will that sharp unease down – not the physical ache, but the restless part of himself that he'd drowned in Rin's touch so many times before.)

_it's alright_

_we'll be alright_

_everything's gonna be alright_

...It had to be enough.

(How... could it not, when the seconds reaffirmed Rin's confidence and his expression soon twitched with what Haruka knew was a struggle of unexpected pleasure; when his back curved in a beautiful arch, extending to meet Haruka half-way in a needy, graceless kiss; and how it made him thrust deeper on a complete accident, drawing a whimper from Haruka, while an involuntary _fuck, Haru_ spilled from Rin's lips.)

Whether out of concern or competitiveness, it was clear Rin was wary of the oversights of Haruka's first time, but it also wasn't a battle he could win.

Once Rin's breathing deepened in fragments, Haruka couldn't help the wave of accomplishment that joined each jolt of Rin's body. Never once breaking the kiss, he weaved his fingers in Rin's hair and dug his heel into Rin's lower back to ground them together, just in time for Rin to moan into his mouth; when his knees buckled, Haruka's weight helped support both of them as Rin came inside him with fingers clinging to Haruka's hips.

Bracing Rin as he toppled over, Haruka was more than prepared to shove him over and spend the next five minutes living through the high of Rin's climax. But then, would this really have been Rin ( _his_ Rin) if a stubborn, ambitious nerve had not landed his hand on Haruka's lower stomach, the teeth that grazed his neck almost insulted in tone.

"Not everyone," Rin muttered against his skin, an unmistakable challenge in his voice, "Is as out of shape as you."

(And the truth was, that deep down Haruka had been _hoping_ for it, for that audacious spirit that always sent Rin contesting each odd; for the experience that did, this time, aid Rin's determination when he palmed Haruka's cock and shifted his wrist in confident strokes while biting on the underside of his jaw.)

It was one victory Haruka would easily let him have.

The thought of paper-thin walls did briefly cross Haruka's mind again, somewhere between crying out with pleasure and the daze that left him heaving in Rin's hair. Yet breathing in the afterglow, it seemed like an inconsequential detail, just like the eerie anxiety that had temporarily filled his heart with unrest; when Rin instinctively tilted his head to lightly kiss Haruka, it felt strange to think anything here could be out of place.

Perhaps, it was the relief of this tranquility that made him pull on the rest of his yukata, reach out and fumble for something Rin had previously left on the table.

"What are you doing," Rin said, laughter edging into his voice as he watched Haruka glare at the phone.

Unable to work his way around the menus, Haruka decided a flip phone was a lot easier to use than smartphones, where it took six hundred and twenty two swipes to so much as call another person. "I'm giving you your picture."

Even his regular matter-of-factness could not conceal the light sheepishness of his voice, though. At Rin's triumphant grin, Haruka yanked his head away on embarrassed instinct, but eyed back just as quickly once Rin pulled Haruka into his lap and covered the hand that held the phone with his own.

"You dumbass," Rin spoke, and his words were laced with so much affection it nearly overflowed Haruka's chest, "...Come on, I'll show you how."

It was possibly only fitting, that when he pulled up the phone to get them both into the image, Haruka still didn't get it perfect on the first try; hitting video instead, he ended up accidentally recording roughly 15 seconds of him frowning at the front camera while Rin cracked up, burying his face in Haruka's neck with _oh my god how can you be so bad at this_ along with a flurry of kisses.

Once Haruka finally succeeded in getting a picture, Rin snatched the phone back and flashed him another insufferable grin.

"Alright, that's going to be my new background image."

"....Rin."

"No, I'm e-mailing it to everyone we know."

" _Rin_."

"It's my property now, you can't stop m––HEY STOP TRYING TO ELBOW ME IN THE FACE––"

Rin ducked his head, locking his arms around Haruka's to wrestle him down; for all his supposedly poor constitution, aggravation could still get Haruka to put up a fair fight. Yet what finally weakened his resistance was not their recent physical ordeal, but the laughter bubbling out of Rin: washing over him like summer rain, the sound was something Haruka had spent years wondering if he'd ever truly hear again.

It made him close his eyes.

"...Hey, Haru."

Rin's voice was light, but his unexpected caution made Haruka blink at once.

(Because when he glanced up, Haruka found Rin staring down with almost naked adoration; the expression on his face was so raw, so unguarded, that an inescapable coldness gripped Haruka's bones faster than anything he remembered having felt in his life.)

"I.... Haru, you know, I'm..."

Rin drew a deep breath, a split second stall before he moved onto the next syllable, and Haruka couldn't even breathe.

"...I think I––"

( _no_ )

"–– _Don't_."

...Was it really Haruka, who spoke?

Looking back, sometimes he couldn't say for sure; but it must have been him, _must have_ – because it still sounded like him, because he still felt his lips move, because it was his hand that pushed out at Rin's chest merely seconds before a slow confusion set on Rin's brow.

"...I mean, don't... worry about it," Haruka went on, trying to sound as calm as possible. "...You can set it as your background, if you want."

With almost stupefied hesitation, Rin gave him a nod. His grip on Haruka's arms had briefly faltered, but when Rin replied in hesitation, a forceful smile accompanied his silent "....Yeah."

Haruka's throat felt dry.

(Because just like that, he still _felt it_ ;

the sharp unease skipping through the cracks, for all the things Rin could have told him that Haruka simply didn't want to _know_ ;

_because if you know, well_

_then you know, and_

what he might come to understand was, that

_it's still not enough)_

 

 

 

 

_He stood on the platform waiting for her to board the train, and the enthusiasm of her wave was in mirthless dissonance with the door that closed behind her._

_"We'll come back by the end of next Summer, alright?_

_Oh, and Haru––_

_I love you."_

 

 _It had never hurt because she didn't mean it._

_It hurt because he knew it was true._

 

 

 

 

Although the past couple of weeks had silently been eating away at Haruka's resilience, it had taught him something, too: the ability to will their discomfort quiet, to pretend it didn't exist. It wasn't something either one of them did on purpose, rather than out of necessity: the weekends were too precious, too rare to spend on tearing open wounds that neither one of them quite knew how to put into words.

Rin's true presence took a couple of hours to resurface. Haruka knew, because from that moment onwards there was a smile fixed over his lips, one that lacked Rin's usual exuberance and glow; a smile that didn't reach his eyes until later that evening, when the two of them were sharing dinner, and Haruka accidentally dropped an entire piece of mackerel into a bowl of rayu.

"Well," Rin said, and Haruka frowned at his chili-covered fish and echoed, _Well._

And then both of them had started to laugh.

For his own part, Haruka knew it was relief rather than amusement, like a cautious barrier had been holding him at bay; of course he–– could tell Rin had been upset about Haruka's sudden interruption, but there was no way to address the subject without also having to find out what it truly concerned.

(Of course he had known it was wrong not to tell Rin about Tokyo, too, but Rin hadn't wanted to know either; and with each day the issue had drifted further and further until Haruka could safely convince himself that none of it really had to matter in the end.)

It was fine.

It was better this way, and it was fine.

He was fine;

yet sometime between two and three a.m. he still found himself sliding the door to their tiny patio, a breeze of night air flooding in before he pulled it shut. A narrow stream of water glistened in the moonlight, and somewhere out in the darkness, he could almost sense the shadows passing from one tree to another like waves.

Every once in a while he would catch a glimpse of light, the moon reflecting off the eyes of something in the dark; it didn't feel unnerving so much as consoling, somehow, to know the forest was alive and awake.

He didn't want to look at the stars.

"...Haru? Why'dya wake up?"

He would have glanced over, had not a pair of arms blocked his field of vision; half-asleep, Rin's attempt to wrap his arms around Haruka's shoulders came out more akin to a human muffler.

"...I couldn't sleep," Haruka muttered against his skin, leaning his palms against the rail to keep both of them from slumping over. For someone so clingy, Rin was also surprisingly heavy when he wanted to be.

"Mhmhnp," came the echo before Rin's head thudded against the nape of Haruka's neck.

There was an innocence to his gesture that Haruka found... comforting, almost, for how stripped this moment felt of all pretense; half of Rin was no longer present in this world, yet the other half still desperately clung to the chance to share it with him.

Haruka let his eyes rest for a while, too, before he stared back into the darkness.

"...Rin," he finally said, as if this half-Rin half-spirit was easier to be honest with than the real thing. "Do you hear that?"

The skin on his neck tickled when Rin spoke in a drowsy mumble.

"...Hear what?"

Still, the irony of the moment was that any intent or attempt at honesty was halted by Haruka realizing he didn't actually have anything to say; if he stood still, he could listen to the wind and the trees, but there was something about the silence that followed that felt like the center of low pressure.

His fingers gripped the rail tighter.

"...Nothing, I guess," Haruka said;

but he didn't know if it was a dismissal, or the answer.

 

 

 

 

_“So, did your visit with your mother go well?”_

_He turned his head, only to catch Makoto's reassuring smile._

_“It was alright,” Haruka said, knowing as well as Makoto did that it could have meant anything and nothing at all; even so, he didn’t specifically mind him asking, if only because Makoto might have been the only person in the world who didn’t actually anticipate a true response._

_Stealing a quick glance at the ocean, Makoto continued to walk along by his side. A cautious hope preceded his voice when he addressed Haruka anew._

_“Did you tell her about Rin? ...You know, like you said you might, before you left.”_

_Haruka wasn’t sure whether his response was technically a lie. “…The right moment never came up.”_

_Makoto made a thoughtful sound, then gave him a supportive nod._

_“…Well, there’s always next time, right?" He let out a little chuckle. "I know I’d be nervous about telling my parents I was dating someone in high school, too.”_

_Haruka’s feet came to a slow halt._

_“…I thought…”, he hesitated. “What about you and Gou?”_

_At the bluntness of his question, a light pink spread on Makoto’s cheeks; recognizing his own embarrassment, Makoto then tried to wave it off with a hasty hand._

_“No, that’s–– We were never––“ he began with an awkward laugh, but it was just as quickly that Haruka noticed a funny kind of sadness giving his words an edge._

_“…We’re not going to be more than friends.”_

_Haruka wasn’t sure if what he felt was surprise; still, the admission left him blindsided, for all the things he knew he hadn’t been paying attention to in the recent weeks. Whatever had been going on with Gou had always hovered at the back of his mind, somewhere in a box labeled “Makoto's personal things” that he hadn’t assumed actively demanded much of his time._

_The sudden bittersweetness of Makoto’s expression now made Haruka second-guess this, if just for a while._

_“Everyone's going to be even busier next year,” Makoto went on to explain, “She as the manager, and me with…” he swallowed, glancing away from Haruka too abruptly for it to seem coincidental, “…Well, we both have a lot of things to look after, I guess.”_

_He paused to exhale. “And after that I’ll graduate, and things would get even more complicated, you know...? So we decided it was better if we only remained friends.”_

_Haruka frowned._

_“...But I thought you liked her.”_

_Again, Makoto shook his head; when he smiled, it was tinted with the familiar, forced cheerfulness Haruka could recognize in his sleep._

_“I did. I mean, I do. But…”_

_Glancing away, the look on his face was suddenly much older than someone about to turn seventeen._

_Haruka remembered watching him breathe out the words, watched Makoto's lips move and gaze trail off, and somewhere, somewhere the ocean must have been crashing to the shore._

_The silence in his ears grew louder._

"... _But just because you care about someone, doesn’t mean it always works out in the end."_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: Everyone loves a blatant Chekhov's gun. Also, a boy from Rin's past.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The closer we get to the end, the stranger it feels to realize that it _is_ ending.
> 
> And I am so thankful, for everyone who has stayed with me throughout this year; and for anyone who might discover the story even after this year is through.
> 
> Thank you.

 

 

 

When the bus hit a left curve, he felt Haruka's head slump across the seat and roll over to his shoulder, where it finally came to rest against Rin's cheek.

"Hey, we're arriving in forty minutes," Rin whispered, but the elbow he buried in Haruka's side only elicited an _I'm hfdnfh_ in response.

Within minutes he could hear Haruka breathing heavily through the hum of the engine, lost in the sleep he had missed last night. The soft hair that tickled Rin's jaw made him nearly brush a hand through Haruka's hair, but his fingers fell short the moment he remembered the other people in the bus.

_Don't._

He felt Haruka's shoulders rise and descend in his sleep, and let out a heavy exhale.

For as long as he could remember, _Don't_ had been a word that embodied comfort: phrases like _Don't be uncool!_ and _Don't act like such a baby!_ had guarded Rin from embarrassment in his youth like a good-luck charm. Over the years, he had watched that _Don't_ spread from people to places, until Australia turned the charm into necessity: suddenly, every _Don't miss home_ and _Don't cry all the time_ was a defense mechanism he could recite off his spine.

They weren't necessarily _Don't_ s he'd religiously adhered to – his foster parents insisted that sometimes a _Don't_ could also be a _Do_ , that it wasn't wrong to send letters across the ocean or hide his tears in Winnie's fur. Yet with each defeat and rejection the list had only ever kept growing, until he could no longer tell precaution from self-fulfilling prophecy:

_Don't stop trying, but_

_don't expect to win._

The bus swerved again, and the bump in the road buried Haruka's face deeper in the nook of Rin's shoulder. Briefly, Haruka stirred, but anything he might have said was lost in a murmur against Rin's skin.

In the end, it hadn't been so difficult. To take the moment of Haruka's–– interruption, and file it amidst all the other memories Rin couldn't waste time trying to second guess. After all, he could choose to focus on that Haruka, or the one that felt like _his_ : the Haruka who sneaked back into the springs and almost gave the staff a heart attack, who could swallow an entire piece of rayu-covered fish and not even blink.

(The Haruka who had traced his face in the morning, kissed him hard in the morning, and looked genuinely disappointed to leave – that Haruka had to be real too, _had_ to, because Rin couldn't mistake the intensity that flowed through each touch and gaze. No, there was nothing in the world that made Haruka _look_ like that, apart from when his arms broke the water, when his neck craned to gauge their distance during a race.)

 _Don't_.

No, in the single syllable that had spilled from Haruka's lips, Rin knew that years of _Don't_ had spoken in his stead; all the countless of threats and possibilities, locked behind the courage that didn't necessarily _want_ to know what Haruka had truly meant. As long as he didn't–– _ask_ , it could have meant anything and nothing at once.

After all, the word had never been a simple rejection, but protection and solace in one:

_Don't ruin this. Don't change this. Don't take away everything we have._

Or, it could have just as easily been a warning:

_Don't push me. Don't test me. Don't ask for more than you deserve._

(On the other side of the window, the scenery passed and blurred together – speeding along like the life Rin desperately wished he could fast-forward, through all these self-deprecating _Don't_ s that only ever seemed to replace the ones he overcame.)

Perhaps, since the moment Haruka had kissed him before the end of Summer break, being forced to unlearn them all had simply been a matter of time. But it had been naïve to assume that it would be as simple to cut that second skin as it was to fall in love; having let Haruka so much closer to all his insecurities, each miscalculated slip always left Rin cutting right through to the bone.

Next to him, Haruka stirred lightly, and with a drowsy mumble his fingers curled around Rin's sleeve.

"...How much longer, still?"

When he opened his mouth to respond, Rin realized he didn't know.

 

 

 

"...What is that thing you're making, anyway?"

On the floor, Gou glanced up and held out two photographs in her hand: one must have been taken on the island both Samezuka and Iwatobi had trained this Summer, while the other featured Nagisa almost pushing Makoto out of the picture with his cheek.

"It's a photo album!" she smiled, "I decided to go through every picture since the club started, and combine them into a memorial album."

Pausing, she glanced at the album at her feet, with a softness entering her voice. "It's going to be what I give Makoto-senpai tomorrow. You know, for his birthday."

"...Oh," Rin said, and scratched the back of his head; it might not have been his issue to address, but the way she politely stressed the suffix after Makoto's name roused something big brotherly in Rin that still made him speak aloud. "...Haru told me about what happened with... you know."

Eyes flicking up, at first Gou looked surprised. As her mouth curved into a smile, though, Rin was relieved to find it sincere.

"...It's fine, oniichan! That's the reason people decide to remain friends. So they can still _be_ friends."

It sounded simple, when put that way; and while Rin suspected there was more to this version than Gou was letting on, he could also live without the details as long as Gou was alright. Besides, had she felt too vulnerable to discuss the subject, she wouldn't have invited him home to help; that, or his sister had completely disproportionate expectations for Rin's skills in hobby crafts.

"Can you hand me that one box? It's got decorations I wanted to use, like stickers and ribbon." She pointed to the top of the shelf, at two rose-patterned boxes stuffed between old comics and a plush toy shark that stared at Rin like it was judging his sense of style.

Reaching out his arm, Rin turned back to Gou for confirmation. "Which of these did you want me to pull down?"

"The one on the right, that's–– oh, watch out!"

Rin braced his arm when a shower of photographs came raining from the shelf, as though he was literally watching Gou's life flash before his eyes. Making a _harrumph_ 'd sound at his clumsiness (hey, it was _her_ that left all this crap lying around to begin with!), Gou pushed the album off her lap and reached out to collect the pictures.

"At least help me out here," she puffed out her cheeks, picking up each photograph one by one, "I'm–– ....Oh? Hang on a second."

An excited smile lit on her face, as she pulled out a specific one from the pile.

"Look, oniichan! Look at what I found."

Flipping the photo over, Rin knew at once what it was: a picture taken years ago, on one of Rin's birthdays before Australia. He'd been sick on that particular day, all because of a dare – as he stared at the image of tiny Gou smiling into the camera, a tiny version of himself looking moody in a facemask, and the triumphant, dark-haired boy grinning at the foot of his bed, Rin could almost hear that boastful voice in his head:

_The one who can stand bare-footed in the river longest, is gonna be number one for sure!_

"...It's been a while since I spoke to Sousuke-kun," Gou smiled, an unmistakable fondness in her voice as she lightly touched the photograph, "...I wonder what he's doing these days?"

When she glanced up with the obvious follow-up question written over her face, Rin wasn't sure what made him look away.

"...I did mean to get in contact after I came back," he muttered, "But I guess I've just had a lot on my mind."

"Well, that's understandable," Gou shrugged, giving the picture one last look before filing it away amidst countless of others, "...But maybe you should call him sometime. Like for New Year? I'm sure he'd love to hear from you."

"Maybe," Rin echoed, and was secretly glad Gou was soon distracted by her project; yet even after she finished putting the album together, after they ate dinner with their mother and Rin found himself back in his room at Samezuka, he couldn't stop picturing the photograph in her hands.

It wasn't like Rin had never thought of Sousuke, when the loneliness back home hadn't turned out any more bearable than the loneliness in Australia. Thought of him again, when Makoto's loyalty towards Haruka had sparked frustrated envy, or when the Rin who stared back in the mirror each morning only bore traces of the kid who had used to race down the streets with his own best friend.

_Why would you have ever wanted to show him that person, instead?_

So he had never called.

Of course, the excuse of embarrassment had eventually turned into the excuse of routine; between the disqualified relay race and piecing his life back together, Rin had simply been too busy falling head over heels back in love. Like Gou had said, it was understandable, but not the excuse that ultimately kept Rin from picking up the phone – because the Sousuke of his memories might not be the Sousuke of today, either, and Rin wasn't sure if it was an illusion he wanted to break with one call.

_so many illusions you'd rather cling onto_

_than risk having nothing at..._

"Hey, Matsuoka. Could I have a quick word with you?"

Rin almost hit his head against the ladder next to his bunk, never having noticed the moment the Captain had entered their room. Standing in the doorway with his arms folded, a tilt of Mikoshiba's head beckoned him towards the hall.

At his desk, Nitori perched up with abrupt worry, but Rin brushed his shoulder with reassurance on his way out; as perplexed as Mikoshiba's visit made Rin, too, one of these days they might both learn the value of not instinctively assuming the worst.

Of course, there are no odds like the ones that land in your favour when you least expect.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but..."

The words were followed by Mikoshiba's trademark _Time To Be a Captain_ -face and a hand that brushed through his hair, and Rin's spine straightened up at once.

"Listen," Mikoshiba began, cutting straight to the chase, "You've been breaking curfew and skipping practice a few times too many during the past month, and I'm running out of excuses to explain your attendance sheet. Which reminds me, if anyone asks, you've got three dead grandmas, alright?"

"Thing is, though," he then went on, voice taking on a more serious tone, "I haven't been covering for you because I'm the president of the Nanase and Matsuoka fanclub. I've been covering for you because I'm the captain of this team, and I have plans for you after I graduate. Up until recently it seemed like the right decision, but you know as well as I do that your times have begun to slip."

Rin leaned back his shoulders until it felt like they merged together with the wall.

"Sorry, Captain," he said stiffly, resorting to the same excuse for the second time today. "...I guess I've just had a lot on my mind."

It was a line that might have passed Gou's radar, but there probably wasn't a single hasty explanation his Captain hadn't heard; scrunching his brow, Mikoshiba's response thus came with far less sympathy.

"No, Matsuoka," he said, sounding almost frustrated, "You have _one_ thing on your mind, and that's the whole problem. I told you, when kids go through emotional changes, it affects the whole team. And if there's anyone who swims with their heart, it's you."

Leaving Rin no time to counter with embarrassment, Mikoshiba shook his head with a sigh. "Look. It's really none of my business what's going on with you and Nanase, but all I'm here to remind you of is that becoming a top athlete isn't just about doing what you love. It's about setting priorities, and following them through."

The worst part about the sting that cut across Rin's chest was that he knew it was completely deserved.

Under the Captain's knowledgeable stare, he couldn't help lowering his gaze out of shame. He'd never meant for the recent events to affect his performance, but perhaps, that had been naïve too; any indecision in his heart would always bleed into the water, and it was hardly the first time he had allowed something Haruka-related to derail his ambition.

However, once Mikoshiba's shadow shifted, Rin glanced back to find a gentler expression on his face.

"It's alright to have all kinds of priorities, you know. But the problem with entering a world of professional sports is that we also have to make sacrifices, and sometimes the fear of moving forward turns into a fear of letting go."

Through his embarrassment, Rin felt a sudden, irate twitch of his nerve.

Even before he'd left Japan back in middle school, all he had _ever_ wanted was to make it on his own; to cast off the past that held him back, so the day he reached that one acclaimed starting block, all the hard work would reward him with everyone's respect. He'd met lots of other prodigies in his life, sure, but between the unyielding Sousuke and the elusive Haruka, it was Rin who had always compromised – tested his limits, stripped off his illusions, and grown to understand the meaning of weakness and loss.

 _Who are you to talk to me about letting go_ , it made Rin almost snap on impulse; yet at the last minute, a sense of reason held him back. As far as warnings went, it was clear Mikoshiba wasn't really here to scold; _Don't lose track of what's important,_ was all the Captain seemed to want to say, and it was a perfect example of the kind of considerate, protective _Don't_ that Rin had surrounded himself with all his life.

So why did hearing it now leave him with such unease?

_We're not gonna change._

... _oh._

A familiar weight settled in his stomach, dull as the hum in his heart.

(So many promises he'd made over the years, that he'd never intended to keep; so many plans he had made for the future, as if the _how_ did not really exist; so many selfish dreams he still kept clinging onto, even if he could only achieve them through a lie––)

"...Does that mean the only way I can enter the world I want is by leaving something else behind?"

For all his reluctance to discuss the subject, Rin's frankness initially caught Mikoshiba off guard. But for each lousy excuse a captain must have also heard a hundred sincere fears, and so the question only made Mikoshiba gently shake his head.

"That's not it," he replied calmly, and something about his conviction was comforting and challenging all at once. "The last thing I'm saying is that you can't combine both worlds, but you have to know what you're really combining them _for_."

_because if you give up the world you give up yourself, and then what will you do?_

Rin's eyes widened.

...It was a thought he remembered, from not that long ago; a thought that now made him remember the picture in Gou's room, and the two boys with a dream as wide as the world. The Sousuke of his past might have been unyielding, but there was a time when both of their goals had been solid as stone;

_so why are you now compromising your priorities, for fear of doing this alone?_

As though sensing his sudden disorientation, Mikoshiba coughed to clear up the unusually serious mood.

"...Anyway, I know I just told you to cut back on personal visits, but this birthday thing your friends are having tomorrow? You know you're completely free to go."

Like a record skipping a groove into the next, completely unexpected track, Rin looked up in surprise. "Wait, how did you––"

"Your sister cleared it with me well in advance," Mikoshiba grinned; from the energy in his posture Rin never would have guessed the conversation they'd just had, had he not been a participant in it himself. "All it took in exchange was a single da–– Hey, I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I'd never barter your freedom for a selfish cause."

"Really," Rin stated flatly, hoping against hope that the world might eventually reward Gou for her patience; at the very least, it should reward Rin with a Mikoshiba that wouldn't be as difficult to push out of a window.

But of course, there are no odds like the ones that land in your favour when you least expect.

 

 

 

_"What is it that thing you're making, anyway?"_

_Gou looked up, and held two photographs in her hand._

_One of them was the picture he had taken with Haruka at the hot springs, clinging together clumsily to fit in a single frame. The other was Rin, far younger, standing in front of his grandmother's house._

_"I don't remember that second one," he said, but instead of her room, he realized they were at the old swimming club; a young boy stood waiting by the starting block, but turned his head when he saw Rin._

_"What else don't you remember?" Sousuke said with curiosity in his voice, but the cheer of an empty audience drowned Rin's response, while droplets of salty water pooled at his feet._

_"It's not because you called his mother," Makoto sighed, "It's about following priorities, and setting them through."_

_"That isn't––" Rin started, but the dorm room began to collapse upon itself as the books and pencils started spilling from Nitori's desk to the floor._

_"Rin," Makoto called out, reaching out to him on instinct; but the ground turned into a quicksand of text messages that sunk Rin's voice, while someone who looked just like him tugged on Makoto's arm._

_"I'm fine. He's fine. Everything's fine," it said, ignoring Rin, as the silent words kept mounting at their feet._

_"Rin-chan," Nagisa said, reaching over the table dressed in a giant Korilakkuma suit, "I'm very flattered by your confession! But I just don't feel about you that way."_

_"What?" Rin blurted out, and saw that the walls of the café they were sitting in were made of lemon custard and cream._

_"Rin-san," Rei sighed, and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I'm going to be honest with you. This whole thing with your subconscious collapsing all over the place? Is not very beautiful."_

_"No shit," Rin wanted to say, but was struck in the face by a shower of corn flakes while the walls began to melt into a sticky puddle at their feet._

 

_"...Don't."_

_The whisper came close to his ear, and when he spun around, the shadow that flicked across his grandmother's house looked like Haruka._

_He almost made a start for it, only to realize he didn't know where to look; in each room he could hear someone talking, but they all echoed empty when he made it inside._

_"You idiot," he yelled, unnerved and frustrated, "Don't **what**?! How can I make you happy if I don't know what you want me to do?!"_

_He was cut off by the clangor of a level crossing, and when the train passed, the young boy on the other side yanked his head away._

_"Did you forget?" he muttered, "I only promised to race you. But you still cry every time you lose."_

_"Haru," Rin began, but there were no constellations in the sky, and no shadows at his feet._

 

_"What is it that thing you're making, anyway?"_

_Gou looked up, and held two photographs in her hand._

_One of them was a picture of him and Haruka taken at an international competition, clinging together clumsily to fit in a single frame; the other was Rin, standing alone in front of a house in Tokyo that he did not recognize._

_"Come on, that hasn't happened yet," he said and tried to laugh, but instead of her room, he realized they were standing on the side of a cliff; as a large wave shattered into the rocks, the water that pooled below looked like hundreds of little wind waves at their feet._

_"None of it did," she said, and turned her head away._

 

Rin opened his eyes.

It wasn't with a jolt, but with an unsteady heart; in the darkness of the room, he could hear rain rattling against the window in tune to his pulse.

For the seconds he lay there staring at the bottom of Nitori's bunk, mind reeling from the barrage of memories woven together like a grotesque kaleidoscope, there was one thing Rin finally knew with mirthless clarity:

He and Haruka had to talk.

 

 

 

_you're late_

**come on its only like 15 mins!!!**

_nagisa already ate half of the mochi_

**then shake him until they fall back out idk we'll be there in 2 seconds damn**

"Oniichan! The wrapping's getting wet!"

Rin looked up from his phone long enough to catch Gou hugging a decorative paper bag against her chest. The rain had continued well into the following day – not with a downpour, but a drizzle that Rin hadn't been able to decide necessarily warranted an umbrella. Still, he wished at least one of them had brought one, when Gou reached out like a mother cat trying to shelter her child.

"Get over here," he groaned, covering both his sister and the present with his jacket. The distressed look on Gou's face soon transformed into a grin, and when they huddled down the street like the hunchback of Iwatobi, Rin couldn't help joining her laugh.

"Sorry we're late!" Gou called out, tugging on the open door, "I had to go back and pick up the present, because I accidentally left it at home."

Amidst the cheers of _Gou-chan! Rin-chan!_ in the background, the person who rightfully stepped to greet them was Makoto. Something bewildered yet unmistakably touched lit up in his smile when Gou handed him the bag; in that brief moment in the hallway, Rin felt like he was almost intruding on a wordless, reaffirming exchange of a whole another kind.

"You know you didn't have to get me anything," Makoto laughed sheepishly; to save him from his embarrassment, Rin cut in with sharp grin.

"That's good then, 'cause I only brought myself. But we're taking you out to eat some other time, right?"

Okay, so that may not have exactly helped Makoto's fluster; Nagisa called it the _Sparkling Matsuoka Attention Combo_ , where the combined effort of Gou and Rin's directness could leave a more unseasoned person overwhelmed.

To combat this, Makoto fixed his eyes on the bag in his hand. "That's alright," he smiled, yet couldn't hide the playful curve of his mouth. "Coming over is enough present, really, since it means the rest of us don't have to temper a certain morose someone anymore."

There was no way Makoto's soft words carried down the hall, but when Rin craned his head around to catch a glimpse of Haruka, he turned back with a puzzled look on his face.

Leaving Gou to deal with Nagisa's overflowing curiosity at the contents of the paper bag (hell, she wouldn't have been as inclined to blush if she knew the kind of gifts _Nagisa_ felt at liberty to distribute), Rin worked his way into the living room, where Makoto's siblings were gawking at the hand-held console in Rei's hand.

"He's only played for half an hour," Haruka said, unable to hide his bitterness, "But his mayor score is already at ninety seven percent."

"Well, he probably doesn't go around beating people to death," Rin noted, and the sharp glance that Haruka shot back made Rin want to kiss him.

(Back when they were kids, it was that very disdain that had always confused Rin, like a game of which one of them lost their temper first; ironic, really, that it was this spark of spirit which had always remained their light in the dark, because it wasn't something either one of them could fake.)

_and yet, here you are faking a conversation, to avoid the one you should be having instead_

Rin pulled back the spark, and stifled it with a forced smile.

No, even if the two of them had been alone in the room, he had promised himself–– that today would be different, that he wouldn't give into any heated impulse to ignore how desperately they needed to _talk_. The past few weeks, the future, everything – it had been too easy to skirt around the difficult topics, because if one of them hated talking and the other hated having to ask, well...

"Did you get Makoto anything?"

It wasn't much of a question, but it was a start; surprised, Haruka gave Rin a nod.

As he reached for a clear file on the table, Rin quickly recognized the contents inside to be a comic. Leafing through it, the crease on Rin's brow went from curious to confused: what little he could understand of the story, a character who looked a lot like Makoto was kidnapped and imprisoned on the moon. At the end he was saved by a team of heroes in colour-coded swimsuits, all of whom resembled the disturbing Iwatobi mascot.

"They're the Space Swimmers: Codename Moge," Haruka stated without a hint of irony in his voice.

Rin still stared at the drawings in his hand. "...What, so they swim in _space_?!"

Haruka nodded again. "They can swim anywhere."

Letting out a long sigh, Rin attempted a pensive face. "...Well, it looks like it took you a lot of effort to make, so I'm sure Makoto's going to..." He trailed off. "...Actually, no, I can't think of a way to finish this sentence."

The pleased look that lit up in Haruka's eyes could have been sarcasm, but somehow Rin knew it was not.

(Because it was an _honest_ fondness that Haruka smiled at his comic, like he smiled at Makoto when he thanked Haruka for the gift; like he smiled at Gou, when Rei expressed his approval of the _Happy Birthday!_ banner they had made; like he smiled at all of his friends around the table, when Makoto insisted that _Really, it's embarrassing to be the center of all this attention_ and Nagisa almost stabbed him with a fork, yelling _Come on, Mako-chan, it's still a perfect excuse for cake!_ )

And it made Rin wonder,

(always wonder, never ask)

_when was the last time you smiled as honest with me?_

As hasty as Rin was to repel that thought on instinct, the lingering mist of discomfort clouded his head all afternoon. It was only when Haruka worked up the humility to ask Rei how to boost his mayor rank, when Gou and Nagisa entertained the twins with grossly over-exaggerated tales of their swimming club, that a light touch on his shoulder stirred Rin fully awake.

"Ah, Rin, would you–– I was going to do the dishes, would you care to help me out?"

It was an excuse and Rin knew at once; Makoto had always been a terrible liar, even when his deception held no malice. But if there was anything Rin could have used right now, it was distraction – so he simply nodded, and followed Makoto into the kitchen.

In order to follow up on his end of the charade, he allowed Makoto the first couple of minutes of foam and casual chatter, before he trailed off like Rin had expected.

"Rin, you know..."

An unexpected hesitation preceded Makoto's voice, and when Rin looked over, Makoto's hands had come to a still.

In the months to come, Rin would think of this exact moment often. In some ways, it would be almost bittersweet how long it would take him to convince Makoto that what happened later wasn't his fault; that there had been no way he could have known, or delayed the inevitable, because everything Makoto ended up saying next was little more than the final tug on Rin's emotional nerve.

"...I just wanted to thank you, I guess. For taking Haru to the hot springs, I mean–– I'm not sure if it's because they're closing down the pools for Winter or something else, but ever since he visited his mother he's seemed a little... restless."

The glass in Rin's hand clinked against the counter.

"What?"

"...The other weekend?" Makoto repeated, confused at Rin's failure to connect, "You know, in Tokyo."

( _....ied)_

"...Haru went to Tokyo to see his mother?"

At the flatness of Rin's tone, Makoto's brows knit together in caution.

"...Yeah?" he hesitated, "I mean, wasn't that what you–– I mean, wasn't that why he––"

_(...lied)_

The speed at which Makoto swallowed the rest of his words was almost daunting; as Rin's fingers gripped the counter, his knuckles went as pale as the stunned realization on Makoto's face at the mistake he had made.

But it wasn't a mistake.

No, the truth may have blindsided Rin, but it couldn't be a _mistake_ ;

because when Rin headed back towards the living room, each step was suddenly as light as if he was walking on air; like the weight of the past weeks had drained off him in a curious wave of tranquility, washing away the mist of indecision and fear.

_you can't keep **I thought I told you to** it's not such a **Only allowed to hurt** understood what I **Stop doing this** Haru, you know I'm **We're not gonna** about setting priorities **Don't––**_

_(you lied)_

It was this calmness that allowed him to register the haste of Nagisa's alarm across the room; the look of confusion Rei shot him, as well as Gou's bewildered frown; and how the twins never once noticed anything at all, even when Rin leaned over, and asked Haruka in a steady voice;

"...Haru. Could you step outside for a second with me?"

 

 

 

It wasn't until the door closed behind them, as his feet hit the pavement as the drizzle hit his skin, that Rin allowed the anger of betrayal burn everything in its path.

" _You fucking lied to me about Tokyo?!"_

Watching Haruka's head snap up, there was a special kind of insult to how he didn't even need to ask what Rin had meant. When his shoulders pulled back and his eyes locked on Rin's own, only a brief hesitation belied the hardened front that took over his entire demeanor; in five words, they'd cut straight through the bone and right into the marrow, with zero need for pretense.

"...I didn't lie, Rin."

There was a calmness in Haruka's words, laced with a definite edge. As prepared as he seemed for this argument to take place, it was obvious Haruka still felt irritated to find himself so openly under assault. "...The one who jumped to conclusions was _you_."

It took everything in Rin's power to not grab Haruka by the arm; to force him, if just for a single lousy second, to cut the fucking semantics and confront him like a real person. A funny kind of venom kept amassing in his heart, with Haruka's quick refusal to shoulder any of the blame – almost as though there was nothing as difficult for Haruka to grasp as the concept of honesty.

_or the two of you as equals,_

_if he ever really did_

"Well you sure as hell weren't telling me the truth," Rin sniped back, trying to will down the malevolent, self-conscious side of himself throwing fuel to the fire; normally, it was easier to keep the worst of his victim-complex under check, but these past weeks had also gnawed at the tether that chained it down.

Haruka's eyes narrowed with an equally strained patience.

"...Whatever the truth was, it didn't seem very important to you," he said, a detachment in his tone that Rin had only ever heard over the phone, "While I was actually in Tokyo, alone."

Whether it was meant as an accusation or not, it was impossible not to read it as one; again, the memory of Rin's pride stabbed him with guilt, and he couldn't help his words from coming out with defensive malice.

"Yeah, sure, because I was too busy deleting my phone from all the messages _you_ sent me during that weekend," he countered, and the sway of his arm nearly knocked down a decorative plant on Makoto's front porch, "But I guess that wouldn't matter to you, because you never _fucking tell me anything_ ––"

"–– _Because you never_ _listen_!!"

The comeback in Rin's lungs came to a halt.

The cut in Haruka's final word could have easily sliced a part of Rin open; no, it must have done, because as he stood taking in the naked resentment on Haruka's face, the heat that trickled down Rin's body felt like a clumsily threaded seam inside him had come undone.

_(all the things he kept trying to tell you_

_and none of the things you ever wanted to hear)_

Deep down, Rin knew all of this was a naïve kind of fury – as though he had secretly been looking for an excuse to channel his own guilt of dishonesty, and throw it all in Haruka's face. But with the frustration that clung to Haruka's outburst, it was clear they had hit the edge of juvenile grudge; it only took one wrong word to cross over to the wasteland beyond, and Rin didn't know if either one of them knew how to tread it yet.

(Because it was a land with endless nights of uncertainty, of a silence both of them felt but couldn't touch; a land where _truth_ was subject to _courage_ , and each word of comfort was laced with doubt; where the most painful thing about happiness was not that it was an illusion, but that it had always, always been _real_ ; and yet)

_what if_

_we're already there_

Rin took a deep, hardened breath.

"Then tell me. Tell me what you want for the future, Haru. Tell me that there was even one fucking second you thought about life past graduation, and still saw yourself with me."

In that single moment, a torrent of emotions shattered the entire facade on Haruka's face; from surprise to stunned disbelief, Rin could have sworn Haruka's eyes flashed with absolute insult before they glazed over with all the primal rage of a cornered animal.

When he spoke, Haruka's voice came out so low that Rin had to struggle to hear what he _knew_ , this time, to be a direct warning:

" _Don't._ "

There was nothing that followed it, but Rin could hear it anyway: _Don't tell me how I feel. Don't you dare decide for me._

(Perhaps, once upon a time the unusual intensity behind it might have been enough to intimidate Rin into silence, but the problem about honesty is that once you've crossed the line into irrational fear, it's also very hard to hold back.)

"Then you _tell me_!!" Rin cried out, and somewhere in the distance a meow and the sound of fallen ceramics signaled a startled cat; the rain was too light to mask their argument, but as ridiculous as they must have looked having it in front of Makoto's house, the embarrassment of his aggression was one Rin had enough experience to ignore.

"You said I never listen to you?" he shouted, "Then go on, just fucking tell me! How do you really feel about me?! What the hell do you even want from me? Just tell me what you want to do about us and stop running away all the goddamn time––"

(A flash of something pained, something desperate, something deep like the ocean at night)

"––What if I don't _know_?!"

_...Oh._

Had there been a witness to this whole nonsensical fight, perhaps it should have been ruled unfair from the start. If Makoto had never known to expect the Pandora's Box he unlocked with honesty, why should Haruka be blamed for his – to be held accountable for not knowing there had never been any defenses behind the barrage Rin had fired?

(Because the place that fueled Rin's anger was the same that housed his hope, and so; what Haruka's own anxiety struck was the one part that had been waiting, with the last of Rin's strength, to hear that he was wrong.)

_but you don't know_

_you don't know you don't know you don't k n o w––_

Watching Haruka's arms tremble with adrenaline, Rin felt sick as the nauseating sweetness of his own selfishness finally emerged from beneath.

And in that simple confession, Rin knew the biggest lie, was _him_.

(Because it wasn't enough, if Haruka didn't already know;

wouldn't feel enough, if a bed was all that Haruka was ever willing to share;

could never _be_ enough, to swallow his real feelings and support the life Haruka wanted without Rin, because)

_I can't go through fighting for a hopeless dream again_

_I can't keep getting rejected by you, over and over again_

_I can't waste my whole life waiting––_

_(don't cry don't cry don't cry if you lose)_

_for you to love me,_

_the way I love you_

 

"––Then maybe we shouldn't be together!!"

 

 

 

He remembered the sudden, unnatural absence of all sound.

Until finally, through the rain, the tiniest crack;

along with a cacophony of hundreds of screeching, shivering little wind chimes bursting open, tumbling shattered and broken at his feet.

And then, silence.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: The morning tide.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not that far from the truth to say that this chapter is the primary reason why Wind Waves exists.
> 
> Thank you to everyone, who has stayed with me throughout this year.
> 
> It has meant the world to me.

 

 

 

 

 

_Thump thump thump_

_thump thump_

_swish, shuffle, swish squeak_

_thump thump thump thump_

_thud_

_She drew in a deep breath._

_In three, two seconds the water would start running, and the sound upstairs would mask her voice. Still, she found herself calling out to him, like she always did._

_"Haru?"_

_There was no response. Maybe he'd heard her this time, maybe he hadn't; there were times she could tell he did it on purpose, but only because he knew that once the water stopped running, she would still walk up that flight of stairs._

_"I'm coming in, is that okay?"_

_When she entered the bathroom, his head didn't turn. Instead, an intent little frown remained fixed on a non-existent spot above the water._

_(Knees pulled up, arms wrapped around his legs, teeth gnawing at his lip – so it was one of_ those _kind of days, then.)_

_"...You want to talk about it?" she asked him calmly, kneeling by the tub and reaching out a hand; he didn't shake it off when she lightly brushed at his hair, but he didn't glance back either._

_"It's nothing," he still said, with a grumble that meant exactly the opposite._

_She hid her smile into her shoulder, then pulled back her arm and nodded. "...Alright. Would you like to talk about this nothing, then?"_

_It earned her a quick side-eye, as perceptive as her own._

_Slowly, his legs reclined in the tub._

_"...Someone I know is going away."_

_The answer was unexpected enough to take her by mild surprise, which he quickly registered with a shake of his head._

_"But it doesn't matter. I don't like him anyway. We're not even friends."_

_Ah._

_"...But still, you'd rather that this not-friend of yours stayed?" she said softly._

_Small teeth pulling at his bottom lip again, he eyed away._

_"...I don't care," he muttered, "...All_ he _cares about is himself."_

_She lifted a curious brow. "Why would you think that?"_

_He stared at his hands floating on the surface of the water, palms up, before letting them sink. "...I said I'd swim in his stupid relay, but it's not enough for him."_

_Not enough for what, she could have asked, but for once he wasn't waiting for her cue; pulling his knees back against his chest, his voice came low like an honest accusation:_

_"...He doesn't understand the water. If he did, he wouldn't care about competing, or want to go to Australia." The hold around his legs tightened. "He's just being selfish."_

_The lingering suspicion she'd had finally clicked in place like a sigh._

_"...Haru, do you feel that's really fair?"_

_At long last he turned to look at her; instead of defiance, there was honest confusion on his face._

_"It sounds a lot like your not-friend has a dream," she went on, gently, "And if there's anything I know about dreams, it's that they take a lot of courage to follow."_

_She reached out to touch the dark hair on his cheek. "...That courage might seem like selfishness at times, but wouldn't you feel it's even more selfish, to not want someone to do what makes them happy?"_

_He lowered his gaze, but did not turn away._

_"One day, you'll have a dream too," she gave him a small smile, as if to lure out one of his own, "And then you'll know what it's like."_

_Instead of a smile, though, the frown deepened on his brow._

_"...How am I supposed to find a dream," he said, and his voice was almost painfully honest, "When everyone always just leaves?"_

_It took a lot to swallow down the pang of guilt his sincerity roused, but when she pushed up the hair on his forehead and held his direct gaze, she knew they were words he would one day grow to understand:_

_"...But, Haru, you can't make other people into dreams."_

 

 

 

He didn't mind the rain.

It was–– a soft one, after all, like a light little dance on his skin. He'd often read about dramatic confrontations in a downpour, of soaked confessions screamed into the bellowing storm, but all that surrounded them was silence, and a gentle rattle of raindrops at their feet.

Was this how it was supposed to feel?

The moment, where you realize you're living through a Moment; like somehow time ought to wind itself still and underline that something had changed.

But it didn't feel any different.

He didn't feel any different.

All that seemed different, was the look that shifted on Rin's face – from contorted anger to the astonishment that began to set, once Rin realized the exact meaning of his own words.

"...Haru, I––" he breathed out on pure reflex, "I didn't––"

Haruka's eyes flicked up sharply, and Rin choked down the rest of his knee-jerk lie.

Over the years, Haruka had heard him scream a lot of things on heated impulse; things that, in his cornered state, Rin may have even thought he felt at the time. Still, they had all been something he had _wanted_ to yell, wanted others to think he meant, in a desperate attempt at self-defense; yet the voice that had cut all the way down to the foot of the stairs was not that of someone who _wanted_ to mean what he said.

Haruka heard Rin swear under his breath.

Each of his gestures was like a second guess: a quick glance, a sharp breath, a hand that almost reached out before it came to an abrupt halt.

"...I'm gonna... Wait here, alright...? I need to go back and say something to Makoto first, but after that, Haru, I... we gotta talk, okay?"

...Wasn't it strange?

How the moment that didn't feel like a Moment could keep stretching, pausing and rewinding as if they were two characters in a play; as if someone had stilled his real life, until Rin returned and pulled Haruka along by the hand. Even when he walked through the hallway of his own house, the walls and furniture felt little more than staged – an outtake, a rehearsal, for whatever scene had really meant to take place at the end of their fight.

Yet once they finally knelt down opposite to one another, lapsed in silence over a table they'd shared dinner on countless times before, Haruka realized the one thing delaying reality was the line he intuitively kept trying to stall, to protect the memory of a night in the Summer when the street lamps had lit a shadow on Rin's face like a halo.

"...You don't want to be with me anymore."

It wasn't a question.

Rin must have known, because it was the heaviness of knowledge that pulled his eyes away; yet there was also a rawness beneath that guilt, a fragility in his voice that Haruka hadn't anticipated, when Rin took a deep breath and said,

"...No, Haru, I... I _can't_."

(And it was in that single _can't_ , like a counter to every single _don't_ he had ever used to hold Rin at bay, that Haruka could finally tell;

that there wasn't going to be a Moment, and everything had changed.)

 

 

 

Outside, the gentle rain continued to fall.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. I shouldn't have lost my temper the way I did."

"...It's alright."

"It's just..."

A pause, and a heavy breath.

"...I didn't–– I never wanted it to come out that way."

"...But you did mean it."

Silence.

"...Yeah."

Silence.

"...Haru, I..."

Silence.

"...Look, I kept telling myself it wouldn't have to matter, if you–– I mean, isn't it ironic, really? Because in the end you didn't go to Tokyo to get scouted, and I–– shit, sorry, I..."

Another deep breath.

"...Haru, I know you hate being tied down to things, but I–– I just... can't be one of those things."

"...What do you mean?"

A shift, a sideways glance.

"I have my own future to think about, you know? I can't... spend all my time worrying if I'm just another burden to you, if sharing that future together isn't something you want to do."

"...You're not a burden, Rin."

A sigh, and a stifled nerve.

"...And you're still skipping past everything I'm actually trying to tell you. I'm talking about the future, and you're still talking about now."

"...What's wrong with now?"

A swift, mirthless smile.

"Judging from the way you were yelling back at me, just minutes ago? ...I'd have to say, _a lot_."

Haruka stared at his hands.

 _We always yell at each other, though_ , he could have said, but it wouldn't have made a difference.

(Because there _was_ a difference, to all the bitterness he'd allowed to flood out the second Rin had given him the excuse; all the frustration he had managed to bottle up in the past few weeks, at his own shortcomings, at Rin's inability to listen – because it wasn't like he'd never tried to communicate any of his anxieties, but all Rin ever did was twist them around to suit whichever insecurity struck him best.)

"...I only said I didn't know what I want," he muttered, but it was his stubbornness that spoke, not his will to fight. "...Not that I didn't want it with you."

Rin looked up, and there was something very tired in his eyes.

In the screams and the curses, it was as though all excess irrationality had drained out of him, leaving only the detachment of logic behind; as Rin went on, it didn't sound like he was trying to convince Haruka, rather than reminding himself of all the reasons why this conversation was inevitable.

"...Haru, the kind of life we might end up living, it... it takes a lot of work. And responsibility, y'know? There's really not–– that much room for other people, and it sucks enough already that we only see each other during the weekends."

When Rin's gaze flicked away, the look on his face was strangely pained.

"...Is that honestly the kind of life you see yourself capable of living with me?"

Haruka looked up, and suddenly he could and could not remember, all at once; the conversation he'd had with his mother in Tokyo, almost in direct parallel to this one. But she hadn't asked him then what Rin was asking him now, and somehow, it felt like there was a crucial difference hidden somewhere in those words that Haruka couldn't quite pull out and decode.

_did you ever want a life like that, for either one of you at all?_

"...But you don't know," Rin filled in the silence, and the recollection cut off with a spark.

It briefly roused enough frustration in Haruka to make him want to scream, _Why is it so wrong not to know_ , but only an apathy clung to the spirit he had always known to counter Rin with. Deep down, he must have been angry, or hurt, or even betrayed, but the haze of his emotions felt impossible to wade through when every little thing that came out of his mouth only seemed to confirm what Rin had already decided in his head.

"...So what happens now?"

Three months ago, Rin had asked Haruka that very question, in this very room, on a rainy morning that dawned after a hesitant, spontaneous kiss.

Haruka swallowed, and his throat felt numb.

"...What do you want to happen?"

Three months later, and he could still only answer a question with a question; but it was a response that made the weariness spread from Rin's eyes to his face, all the way down to his shoulders and arms.

"...I want," Rin began, and at long last his voice broke beneath the forced rationality. "...I want to stop feeling like I'm not enough, all the time."

Haruka looked up, and it was as though the thick fog of apathy finally started to clear; and what he saw, was everything his own anxiety had blinded him to for days, even weeks – the lines around Rin's eyes, the defeat in his posture, the naked exhaustion of someone who had tried so long to fight back the root of his unhappiness, only to find himself in another dead-end.

"...Rin," he breathed out, but his throat no longer felt numb.

(Because three months later, the strength they traded with one another was still as effortless as it was intuitive; in the seconds Rin's resilience started coming loose like someone returning from the war, Haruka could almost see a light flowing into his own skin.)

_one of you always has to be strong where the other falters_

_one of you has to pull the other along, even if both have lost their way_

"...You can stay the night, if you want."

(For more than four years, it had been this way.)

 

 

 

"...Should I get myself a spare futon? You do have those somewh–– ....oh."

There were times when Haruka could have sworn his whole life worked in parallels, like the things he lived through only made sense in adjoined images, or the moments that had yet to pass.

Compared to all the countless of times Rin had stood in this very room, watching the fluster on his face was almost grotesque in tone; just this morning, Haruka had thought of how rare it was to actually get to see him during the week, but the person before him now looked as lost as a stranger.

"...Rin."

Calmness might dull reality, but it could not dull the frustration of unfairness in its wake.

_I hate this_

_I hate this I hate this I hate this I h a t e_

"...If you feel uncomfortable with me, it's fine if you'd rather sleep alone. But when I woke up today, you were still my––"

Haruka swallowed, suddenly not sure how to continue, and turned his eyes away. "...I'd like it if you still were, at least until I fall asleep."

He didn't want to see the look on Rin's face, as conflicted as it might be; couldn't stand the thought of pity, any more than he could deal with the possibility that he'd spent an entire oblivious evening seated at Rin's side, never knowing it may have been their last chance to touch.

"...H, hey, I didn't––"

The floorboard creaked.

(The arms that pulled him in a firm embrace were not as shy as they had been on the night Rin had first climbed into his bed, but they were still every ounce as relieved; yet it was Rin who rested his head beneath Haruka's chin, who curled up like there was something gnawing away inside of him, only tempered by whatever familiarity they could still afford.)

"...I'm sorry," Rin said, and the voice came from somewhere in Haruka's collarbone, "I don't... I'm not doing this right, am I."

Briefly, Haruka closed his eyes, and once more he couldn't help but think of all the parallels weaving together his life:

The Rin who had reached out for him back then, and the Rin he had watched come apart at the seams; the Rin who had burst with hope and spirit, and the Rin who was too tired to believe; and how the one thing that stood between the Rin of then and the Rin of now, was Haruka – and everything he'd ended up draining away, expecting Rin to ignore his own demons, while always looking out for his.

_"Mom used to tell me and Gou that restlessness is like this box locked away inside of you, but we could always count on her to have a key. She said if you filled that box with happier things, there'd be no room left for whatever worry was keeping us up at night."_

As they lay there in silence, his heart against Rin's ear, the memory of that night still rang clear in Haruka's mind.

And it made him wonder, how much happiness did a person need, for that box to cease to exist; how much of the nameless anxiety Haruka had tried to drown with water over the years, only to try and drown it in Rin;

(and how nothing Rin could ever _say_ was enough, nothing he could ever _do_ was enough, because Haruka could never _have_ enough, until all he'd end up drowning, was...)

_"But I guess when we grow older, the only person who has that key is you;_

_maybe the things that trouble us aren't something others can ever really make go away."_

Hadn't Rin told him that, too?

Something on his skin was tingling, like an electricity coursing through each part of him that normally rested in a blissful, oblivious slumber; like there was something about this exact moment, that made him finally understand the boy from years ago, who had stared at Haruka with hurt in his eyes, yanking away his hand in an empty corridor.

( _I want to stop feeling like I'm not enough, all the time_ )

He swallowed, but there was a lightness that held Haruka, inevitable as it was absolute.

"...Hey."

He felt Rin's shoulders shift, and Haruka traced a hand across his back up to Rin's hair. "...Did you ever hear the story about the were-shark that haunted Iwatobi many years ago?"

The sound that left Rin was like a snort and choke in one; still he only shook his head, and it came out as a nuzzle. "...No, I don't think I did."

"...Well, there was once a boy," Haruka began, hesitant at first, but finding the words unexpectedly easy to say, "Who wanted nothing as much as to see the world: every land, every island, every shore, you know...? So he thought to himself, how can I see everything? And he realized the only way to do that was to swim.

"Of course, it would take too many years for a human; but because he was a particularly stubborn boy, he decided to become a shark. After all, he'd found this book at the library, called human to animal transfusion, although someone had written the words _Don't try this with mackerel!!!_ at the very end."

Rin's shoulders buckled with a suppressed laugh, and his fingers came to rest under Haruka's shirt; the warmth was familiar too, like something tangible to help him finish the rest of his story.

"Now, the only problem was, once this boy turned into a shark, he could never turn back again," Haruka went on, and his voice grew more quiet, "And there was another boy, who really hated having to see him go."

He swallowed, and suddenly there was something burning in his eyes again.

"...But at the end of the day, someone's always got to go."

"...Haru," Rin breathed out, and in that split second waver of his voice, Haruka could hear it – the desire to take back everything, the willingness to bury his own hurt just to make all of this go away; but it was

(too late)

because when Rin tilted up his head, an instinct like Haruka hadn't felt in a long time kicked in and silenced any second guesses in a kiss; not like the ones he had always used to bury his own anxieties, but a wordless, honest confession Haruka could at long last admit:

_because you might still need all of him_

_but you cannot give him everything_

_and you cannot keep **doing** this to him,_

_(can't destroy his dreams, ever again)_

When he broke the kiss, it was with a gasp.

"...Seven forty."

Looking back, Haruka wasn't sure what made him think of it; perhaps, clinging onto that memory might only make things harder in the end. Yet as soon as the thought came to him, he somehow knew – that there was only one real way to bridge the _now_ with the _then_.

"...After seven forty tomorrow morning, you're no longer mine."

_No longer need to wait for me at the foot of the stairs_

_or for me to make up my mind_

Nestling his face into Haruka's neck, Rin finally began to cry.

 

 

 

In the end, they never turned off all the lights.

They didn't pull off the bedding, or really get undressed, either; it was something Haruka had done a lot when he was younger, because if refused to acknowledge the morning long enough, maybe tomorrow never came.

_But one way or another, tonight's still going to end._

Somewhere in the course of a dawn breaking, Haruka knew he had fallen asleep; an hour here, another there, like part of his body kept waking up just to make sure Rin was still there.

(Deep down, he knew he had to be the first one to get up, because he–– _had to_ , somehow, be prepared for the moment when Rin's eyes fluttered open and he remembered that nothing about last night had been a dream. It was a resolve that Haruka knew would last him like a carefully constructed floodgate; the numbness was as welcome as it was comforting, so that when the moment of clarity came, it would glide off the edges he had already dulled.)

Yet when he entered the bathroom, the sound of running water did not seem the same: there was no echo to the stream that hit the floor, swirling around at his feet. It was disorienting enough to almost make him miss the door nudging open, until he felt Rin's arms sliding around his bare shoulders from behind; and when Rin pressed his face into the nape of Haruka's neck and whispered,

"I don't want to go,"

only one and a half seconds passed between his broken voice, and Haruka whirling around to push him against the wall.

Because when that floodgate snapped before he had ever meant for it to, what flowed right back out was not the courage he had borrowed from Rin; but a single wave of emotion, with all the apathy and the indifference and the dumbfounded hurt anger disappointment f e a r of realizing, that

_this is it_

until all that was left, was _him_ ;

(and the whirlpool of senses, overflowing with the need to be as close to Rin right now as humanly possible, to memorize the imprint of his fingers on his skin; to trace the lines of his muscles and draw in each trace of a scent, so that in the days to come, Haruka could close his eyes, and still remember.)

When he allowed Rin to lift him up, when his own head gracelessly thudded with the wall, every inch of Haruka ached in a way he couldn't remember anything having felt. It wasn't a physical pain that shot through each of his defenses, and he _hated_ how weak it made him; because he was supposed to be stronger than that, yet all he could do to hold back that helplessness was to push closer to Rin, to cry out his name in soft moans when Rin bit the sensitive skin of his neck.

Drowning and breathing and drowning; none of it made any difference whatsoever, the dizziness held back only by the firm hold Rin had of him in return – but Haruka's mind was still screaming in unintelligible words that felt important, somehow, yet he couldn't get them to make any sense over the louder cacophony––

 _I'll be alright as long as I'm like this_

_I'll be alright if I just don't let go_

_But I'm going to have to, in less than two hours and then I_

_just don't know_

...Even so, the tears never came.

In the minutes they spent clinging to one another afterwards, he'd thread his fingers in Rin's wet hair while Rin once more leaned against his shoulder and cried; he knew Rin couldn't help it any more than Haruka could stop the numbness flooding back in, as the grey light trickled across the floor and the water still held no sound.

(Maybe, if he had cried too, Haruka could have also found solace in letting out his hurt, all the honest disappointment that something they'd worked so hard for was coming to an end. But even after Rin's shoulders stopped shaking, when he pulled back his head and gazed away in light embarrassment, all Haruka could feel was... empty, like there was a void where all his sadness should have gone.)

_but hasn't it always been that way?_

The sudden touch on his hand nearly startled Haruka, when Rin covered his fingers with his own.

"...I had a dream last night, that you and I were... stuck, in this loop, of living different lives over and over again."

Rin hesitated, but through the muted words Haruka couldn't tell if his tone was cynical or hopeful when he spoke. "Like... every time we messed something up, we'd go back to a place where we remembered each other, and then... well, we'd get to try it out again."

It tugged on an unexpected part of Haruka, and he glanced over to find Rin looking right back.

"In my dream, though, you told me that this life was going to be the last time; I think–– this one was going to be the one where we'd finally get it right."

(a sharpness through the apathy, something screaming at the very back of his mind)

"...Was it?"

Only a wryness twisted on Rin's face, as if recognizing the irony of his response.

"...I woke up before we found out."

Haruka closed his eyes.

If his life truly did work in parallels, then perhaps there was a certain solace in the possibility of hundreds of different lives; because it meant that there might have been a Haruka, who could do more than make Rin feel worthless, a Haruka, whose happiness wasn't only ever limited to a few, precious months at a time.

A Haruka, who didn't shut down and withdraw unto himself once a part of him started hoping for _forever_ ,

but forevers never last, nothing ever stays the same, and maybe three months was all he could ever risk to measure happiness in.

(Maybe, that was already far more than what he deserved in return.)

 

 

 

At 7:40 hours, the sky broke cyan like the sea.

Walking down the flight of stone stairs with wind biting at his still damp hair, the clouds in the horizon sailed calmly across weak rays of sunlight, leaving behind a trail of misplaced, cold hues. Haruka remembered thinking about this, somehow, when the moment struck him like another memento; whether it hurt or not, he couldn't yet say.

A few feet before the station silhouette came into view and Rin's feet came to a halt.

When he turned to look at Haruka, his voice came out solemn, yet full of resolve. It was a lot like the conviction that had, once upon a time, given Rin courage to reach past his personal pain and reach out for Haruka's hand; how ironic, really, that the sentiment was now little more than a means of letting it go.

“…I’m not going to stop swimming with you, Haru.”

Haruka could almost sense the wind grip him, holding him still.

“It’s… I mean, it’s probably best if we don’t see each other for a while,” Rin went on, searching for the right words, “…But I’m still your friend, too. And I want us to be able to–– I know it’s gonna be weird for a while, but maybe–– in a few months, you know, when we attend the same contests and see each other at events, it’ll be possible to…”

Rin drew a deep breath, and shook his head.

“But I’m not gonna give up on what we used to be, just ‘cause what it turned into didn't work out.”

There was a rustle where his shoe ground the gravel of the road, but when Haruka looked over at Rin, he had fixed his gaze firmly ahead.

“...One day, you’re going to be on top of the world," Rin said, the tiniest smile snaking on his lips, "And when that happens, I’m going to be right there with you. Not as a burden, not as a regret, but your biggest rival – ‘cause that’s the only way I’ll know this was worth it to you.”

_(that I made the right choice, to cut us off_

_and set you free)_

Haruka could hear it, in everything Rin did not speak out loud, and at long last something about the memory of his mother's words _clicked_.

(Because it wasn't _about_ Rin, the reason he couldn't think about the future; had never _been_ about Rin, the dread that made him not know; because Haruka couldn't make Rin stay any more than he could ever leave, to follow Rin into a world that didn't feel like _his_ )

_but all he thought you didn't want_

_was him?_

Something in Haruka's lungs was grasping for air, while Rin’s still spoke in his stead; eyes fixed on the horizon, he must have mistaken Haruka's silence for little more than stoicism. And it was a parallel and an irony and a _self-fulfilling prophecy of the worst kind_ , that when Rin spoke next, his voice was confident for the first time in weeks.

“...But I don’t want you to forget that this was always my life, too.”

It happened–– very quickly, then.

(like a breath of air, a pause in time, where Rin turned and brushed his lips against his ear)

“––I love you, Haru.”

He never saw the look on Rin's face.

(Never saw anything, but the pale morning light dancing on red hair where Rin turned his head, and pushed his feet forward.)

A twitch of a muscle jolted Haruka’s arm; more than an instinct, like a spark of electricity that came so close to making him reach out a hand at Rin’s back.

Still, the gesture came to a halt halfway.

The sound of rubble and wind followed Rin's footsteps, but all Haruka could hear was a crashing of waves, distant like the morning tide; like a voice much softer than the one that had crippled his courage in the past, speaking from somewhere at the very recesses of everything he had hidden, but never truly willed down.

_because you knew, didn't you_

_all along_

But it was for that exact reason he couldn’t will life into his limbs, couldn’t even breathe as he watched the distance grow with each step Rin took – couldn't do anything but stand there and listen to the echo where that walk turned into a sprint.

He never looked back, and Haruka never called out.

(Because the second Rin had shattered that one final barrier with his honesty, there was nothing to stop the truth from tumbling out, unavoidable as it was raw:

_he loves you,_

_like they all loved you,_

_and in the end, all of them still left)_

In the silence of his own solitude, Haruka let all energy drain from his limbs as he slumped down to hug his arms around his knees.

And maybe, what he did then, was draw in a sharp breath;

 _(of course of course of course you_ _knew_

_after all,_

_you love him, too)_

maybe it was then that he finally cried.

 

_well_

_your dream has finally come to an end_

_and now what do you do?_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah I know, we go deeper than skin   
>  but what lies within   
>  is still deeper than we know   
>  -skin, poets of the fall
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>    
> Next time on the same swimming hell channel: the Epilogue, and the path to an Eternal Summer.


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then, we finally reach the epilogue.
> 
> If you have the time, please read the tl;dr author's notes at the end.
> 
> Thank you so much for this journey.

 

 

 

 

When something deeply personal in our lives changes, we often expect something extravagant to follow.

Fireworks. Explosions. Dramatic music, and crying for hours on end.

But that's not really true.

When you lose someone you love, the world does not stop around you; days turn into nights, nights turn into days, and you might expect someone to come along and tell you what happens next, yet all you can do is wait.

You don't really know what for.

You do anyway.

Eventually, you'll realize what you've really been waiting for is something that would reverse everything; and that's when you realize what you've lost, for the first time.

Maybe you'll cry again.

Maybe you won't.

(Maybe you'll lie underwater until the echoless water becomes so unbearable that you'll knock on your best friend's door at two a.m., sitting in complete silence watching a nature documentary with no sound on; or come up with enough lousy excuses for your roommate to realize there is no specific reason you're against him visiting his family over the weekend, but that you simply cannot sleep in the room alone.)

During the days, you'll probably wonder what changed, because there are so many things that never did:

You'll see his number on the speed dial and want to throw your phone through the window, because you don't see the point in having one if you can't call him anymore.

You'll see all the little notes he scattered over your school books, and never feel like opening a single one of them again for fear of running into his eccentric drawings in the margins.

You'll rummage through your closet and feel like burning all your clothes, because his scent still clings to each shirt, each sheet, every nerve end, even long after he's gone.

And it makes you stare in the mirror for hours on end, looking for signs of change on your face – like a visible mark of everything that's come to pass, so everyone could see there's something slightly _different_ about you today,

so they wouldn't all smile normally

walk and talk normally

breathe and sleep normally

because you can't, so why should _they_ ;

but it's only your closest friends who understand, who aren't making you talk, who never ask the stupid questions for answers that they don't need.

(Because sometimes, at nights, you might feel like you're drowning;

...though really, it's how you feel, all the time.)

But the world doesn't stop.

 

 

 

And so came Spring.

Inconspicuously, somewhere between the crispy mornings and snow slowly melting away; yet come it did.

There were dawns on which the frost would cling to the windows in elaborate plumes, when he'd trace a finger across them until his skin went numb; but with each day the coldness grew softer on the other side of the window, until one morning all the plumes were gone.

He'd changed his ring tone within the first few weeks. The silence wasn't so bad, once he stopped subconsciously waiting for the chimes; sometimes, he'd walk past one of the old houses and almost sense a familiar ring, but it wasn't like the ones he had used to hear.

Or had he always simply imagined it?

Had it always been that way?

"Nagisa! Rei! I'm sorry we kept you waiting!"

On days like this, when the past tried to rethread itself with the present, it was hard to say for sure; Makoto's voice coming through a barrier of water, it was always the same. Makoto's fluster, and the haste in his words; always the same. The relief on his friends' faces once they ran to the station, and their faraway, energetic chatter – both never changing, even as they walked through the gates and the corridors that he might have once crossed, as someone else, in a different life.

"A hundred meter race, a hundred times. It's a Samezuka tradition to continue, until someone beats the captain."

(And still, the confidence in Rin's posture, it _wasn't_ the same; as he walked past the other students at the third years' send-off event, an aura of composure made him stand out like something inside him had matured much faster than the rest of the second years.)

Over the Winter, Haruka had seen Rin a handful of times: at New Year, on Rin's birthday, a joint practice here or there. As cautious as Makoto's smile had been the first time all of them went out together, the strength of friendship was peculiar; it was easy enough to hide behind Nagisa's enthusiasm, to stand back while Rei's commentary filled in for anything Haruka no longer knew how to say.

Rin, well, it might have taken until January to not talk through Makoto, and a few weeks more to directly hold Haruka's eye; but with each little tug his courage would no longer yield on instinct, until the smiles that followed his tentative, light taunts were no longer forced, any more than they were feigned.

And the strangest thing was, that it didn't make Haruka _angry_ , like he knew it would have, back in the day – because there was no selfishness behind Rin's attempts to rewind things back to how they were before the end of the Summer, but a sincere attempt to keep his promise:

_We're not gonna change._

Like the words uttered on that morning in November both did and did not exist–– or did any of that ever really happen at all?

Had he only imagined it, too?

Had everything always been this way?

"Let's go, Samezuka versus Iwatobi! 400 meter freestyle medley race! Matsuoka, you're swimming in this one!"

A fraction of a pause, and a blank response.

"...Yeah."

( _no_ )

Because it _hadn't_ always been like this, and Haruka _hadn't_ imagined it all;

(didn't simply imagine the sudden, unusual quiet in Rin's eyes, or the discipline that strained his shoulders – through all of Rin's efforts to remain upbeat and aloof, a strange kind of responsibility clung to his whole frame, and it felt both alien and familiar to Haruka in ways he couldn't quite explain.)

"This is our first freestyle relay against you guys, right?"

A quick, sideways glance.

_but it's his life now, and not yours to interfere_

"...Yeah."

"Sorry, but we're gonna win today, Haru."

_but it's his life now, and that's not why you came_

"...I don't care about winning."

_after all, this water has been tamed;_

_and for you, it's not..._

Only a split second twitch, where the tiniest, sudden sound made him halt–– long enough to miss the transition where Mikoshiba's hands hit the wall beneath Rin, and Rei's beneath him.

And that sound, it could have washed away when his body hit the water, but it didn't; could have sunken amidst the memory of countless relays of the past, but it didn't; could have not meant anything when a current gripped his arms underwater, propelled by a sudden, instinctive pursuit towards something that both was and was _not_ Rin––

( _what if it's me_

_who makes it enough)_

until the thought buried itself in the gasp of his lungs, at the end of the turn, a second after Rin at the finishing line.

"What did I tell you," Rin's voice broke in laughter over the hollers of the crowd, and there was something more naked in his thrill than Haruka had seen in a long while, "That this time, you'd lo––"

And then, Haruka heard it again, and Rin's words came to an abrupt halt.

(Because whether Rin would ever understand it or not, his victory had given Haruka something irreplaceable today – a completely new piece of a brand new puzzle, shaped by two truths he could not, for the life of him, deny.)

Truth one:

Just now, just then, he had heard another chime.

And truth two...

_I know you heard it, too_

 

 

 

TBC ~~~~

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is and is not how Wind Waves was always going to end.
> 
> As many of you may remember, I started writing this story a year ago, before Season 2 aired; the original plan was to cover the third year, at the end of which Haruka and Rin would break up. As overjoyed as I was by their reunion in Season 1, I knew that in order to write a halfway realistic story about the two of them falling in love, at some point during it they'd _have_ to separate again, not through necessity but by choice.
> 
> Why? Because we don't stop being who we are, even when we fall in love; we carry our past, present, and future with us everywhere we go. Season 1 showed how easily Rin and Haruka's insecurities could feed off one another, which is why I always found it highly unrealistic that they could overcome these differences without having to work on themselves, too. Incidentally, this was precisely what Season 2 came to tell us; which is why the second season ultimately changed nothing about my original plans for Wind Waves – it simply restructured the order they happened in. 
> 
> Wind Waves was born from my desire to not only explore the process of falling in love, but how _loving someone_ might affect a person; most stories end when two people get together, and we never see the reality of that relationship of those people actually living their lives. I knew it'd be a gamble that not everyone would like, but it was a story I also really wanted to tell: how Haruka and Rin could make each other the best possible versions of each other, and how they could likewise turn each other into the worst.
> 
> But I'll save all excess origin stories for later (you can read my WW related blabber over at tumblr [here](http://icecreambat.tumblr.com/tagged/writing-related)), and discuss the part most of you probably only scrolled all the way down here for:
> 
> Will there be a sequel?
> 
> ~~As of writing this, the most definite answer I can give you is: maybe. It's not an issue of me not wanting to write one, since I've already got it planned out in my head; rather, it comes down to time and effort. I mean, I don't _need_ to write a sequel just to let you know what happens after Wind Waves – it's called Free! Eternal Summer, since save for a few changes, you can literally watch the whole second season as a post-break up story with an ambiguously happy ending. Another thing heavily weighing down that scale is time; contrary to popular belief, it does take a lot of effort to write something like this. The result might not be worth it in some people's opinion, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to give it all the attention it deserves. So yes, it's a big commitment.~~  
> 
> ~~However. Anyone who knows me also knows I had Certain Issues with the script for Season 2, which I felt failed to capitalize on some of its themes. I always said I wouldn't technically re-write Season 2 if I ever wrote a sequel, but what this means is that I wouldn't _change_ what happened, just add and expand on it. After all, just by altering a few nuances and adding some scenes, it's possible to make it directly compliant with Wind Waves, so why wouldn't I want to do that? Especially since it would give me the opportunity to cathartically give closure to certain plot elements (namely Sousuke and Haruka's subplot). And more than anything, it would give me the opportunity to flesh out Haruka's path towards an Olympic dream in a way I felt KyoAni really struggled to do.~~
> 
> ~~And hey, because they're all themes that are present in Wind Waves – isn't closure always the right thing to do?~~  
>  ~~(Well, that and Australia; I'm not gonna lie, roughly 80% of my biggest motivation for continuing this story is the chance to write post-break up sharing-a-bed Australia. Come on.)~~  
>     
>  ~~But we'll see. All I know is that I'm going to take a break from Wind Waves and any of its demon spawns for a while, to finish all the gazillion other pending projects, and just to give myself some time to breathe. Regardless, I am incredibly grateful to everyone who has followed with me till the end of this weird ass little journey, because it's kind of bizarre in itself that it's finally come to an end at all.~~
> 
>  
> 
> Yes. There will be.
> 
> So, to round up these tl;dr awkward author's notes: THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, to anyone who's read this thing, even if it didn't end up being something you liked. And thank you, specifically to those of you who have left comments to let me know how this story has made you feel; it's kind of the only reward for putting in all the hours of work, so please never forget how important your thoughts are. After all, I only ever started writing this because I loved these two idiots so much – if I've managed to get that across even slightly, by making even one person feel what I feel, then it has all been worth it.
> 
> Thank you, again.
> 
> \- Airin


End file.
